


How to not kill Simon Snow

by Drarrybutcanon



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, SnowBaz, angsty baz, confused! simon, domestic abuse, i fucking hate malcolm, it's ok tho, mordelia's adorable tho, oh and ebb lives!!!!, wah i love them all too much
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-15 04:30:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13605564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drarrybutcanon/pseuds/Drarrybutcanon
Summary: I wake up to a strange sound. Crick. Crish. Crash. I don’t dare to turn around. It must be Baz. What’s he plotting? It almost sounds like… crisps.Baz has 3 weeks to kill Simon, but he's not going to. He has a plan.





	1. Bag of Crisps

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!!! :)  
> This is my first fic so please don't judge, *sweats nervously*. It might take a while for me to write the next chapter, but I promise not to take more than a week!!!  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this and have a nice day/night/whatever time it is where you live!

SIMON

 

I wake up to a strange sound. Crick. Crish. Crash. I don’t dare to turn around. It must be Baz. What’s he plotting? It almost sounds like… crisps.

I pretend to kick in my sleep and turn around with a fake snore. I know I snore sometimes, Baz complains every morning.

 

BAZ

 

He moves in his sleep (so sodding cute) and lets out a- _wait, no. Snow doesn’t sound like that when he sleeps. Is he pretending to sleep?_

He seems startled. “Baz, what the fuck are you doing?”

I look straight into his eyes. “Eating crisps.” He shakes his head in disbelief and reaches for something on the bedside table, but it’s a bit too far away. We share it, and I like to pull it closer to my side just to annoy him. He moves closer to the edge, his chest hanging over the edge. SLAM. He hits the floor and I chuckle. When he gets up with a whine, he reaches for the bag of crisps. I quickly pull it away and raise an eyebrow.

“What makes you think I would permit you to consume my food?” It looks like it takes him a few seconds to process what I said. _Merlin and Morgana, how am I attracted to this moron?_

“I’m hungry…” he pleads. I glare at him for a couple of seconds when a loud rumble breaks the silence. Snow stares at his stomach and his cheeks go an adorable shade of crimson.

“Alright, but you have to give me something in return.” I hear myself say.

“I’m not going to commit suicide for a couple of crisps.” he grunts.

“How about you hold back your swine instincts and actually keep your side clean for a week.” I suggest.

“I can do that anyway! I don’t need you to remind me!” he exclaims.

“Fine. Then maybe stop following me around?”

“What? No! I mean, I don’t- How did you kn- I can’t! I have to know what you’re plotting!” he stutters. I smirk and raise my eyebrow.

“Why do you always think I’m planning your demise? It’s not like I have time to waste on your pitiful existence. You’re probably going to destroy yourself anyway.”

“Sod off! I’m not! And you’re totally plotting! Why else would you be looking so suspicious? And you’re always lurking around in the catacombs. Oh, and what else would you spend your time on? It’s not like you need to study, you’re so fucking smart! It’s unfair! I mean, you can’t be smart AND look like that, it’s not fair, you can choose one, not bo-” He comes to a sudden stop when he realizes what he’s saying. _My heart dies._

“I didn’t know you liked me so much, Snow. How flattering.”

“I don’t even want the crisps anymore, you git.” he mutters, and heaves himself up on the bed, but a low growl from his stomach betrays him. His face turns into that lovely dark red again.

“Yes, you do.” I say. 

“Why were you even watching me sleeping? Do you realize how bloody creepy that is?” he asks, cheeks still a deep pink.

“Maybe I just like to look at you.” I say, sarcasm not as protruding as I wanted it to be. He coughs. His magic is starting to intensify. I must really be pissing him off, I think to myself with satisfaction. But he doesn’t say anything.

“Crowley, just take the crisps. My mother did always tell me it’s important to help the needy.”

“I’m not-” he starts angrily but stops and snatches the bag from my outstretched hand.

 

SIMON

 

After having finished eating, I try falling asleep again. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to get comfortable. It’s too hot, the sheets are all wrong around me and my back is hurting. I’m facing the wall, but my shoulder is starting to itch, and I turn around with a loud sigh. Baz looks so peaceful. It feels weird seeing him like this, it doesn’t quite look like him. He’s all soft and relaxed: hair spread out on his pillow in loose curls. I don’t like it, yet I can’t really take my eyes off him. It just feels so… _strange_.

 

When I wake up the next morning, Baz is already up. I can hear him in the shower. I’m starting to regret not taking Penny's leftover peas this lunch – I’m so hungry I can’t focus on anything. My mind wanders to the empty bag of crisps on the floor, when Baz suddenly storms out of the bathroom, shirtless, hair tousled and with his trademark frown.

“Snow, where’s my shirt?” he asks irritably.

“Wha-? I don’t- Umm… I didn’t take it if that’s what you mean.”

“Really? So, it decided to wander off on its own?” he replies, anger written all over his face.

“I wasn’t even here when you went into the bathroom! Maybe you just haven’t looked properly.” He turns around, shoulders visibly tense as I can’t help but acknowledge the muscles on his back. _So unfair._

 

BAZ

 

It’s right there. On the fucking floor. Next to the towel I just used. I’m more confused than annoyed as it hits me. This never happens to me. Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch doesn’t simply forget where he put things. Then again, this week has been… trying, to say the least. Father reminded me yet again of my duties, but this time was different. It’s been three days, but I feel like I can still hear his emotionless words in my head.

_“Basilton?”_

_“Yes, father?” I replied with my usual monotone voice._

_“How’s your progress with the Mage’s Heir? You do know your legacy is depending on this.”_

_“I know, father. I’m trying, but he’s always-”_

_“I don’t CARE for trying, Basilton. Achieving is what brings success. I want him gone before the war breaks out, do you understand?” It was not a question. Although his voice was barely there, just a cold whisper, it echoed like thunder in my head._

_“Yes, father.” I said, standing up._

_“I’m not finished!” This time it really was thunder. “Basilton, you have three weeks. If you are your mother’s son, then you will understand that under certain circumstances, precautions like these need to be taken. Only the weak are foolish enough to listen to conscience. Are you weak, boy?” I almost shuddered, but I refused to let my guard down._

_“No, father.” I said, eyes cool and head raised, just like he taught me._

_“Good. You can go now.” I swiftly stood up and moved towards the door. Halfway there, he got up from the large wooden table and approached me with a flashy, neon, plastic smile._

_“Besides, you hate the boy. Wouldn’t it feel good to finally see the chosen one defeated?” That wasn’t a question either. Father doesn’t ask questions, he uses them. It’s practical for manipulating. I know because I do it on a regular basis._

Three weeks. 2 weeks and 4 days today. I know I can’t do it. I love him too much. That's why I’m not going to. I have a plan.


	2. Not Really Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz helps Simon with Magickal History, but only to shut him up, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again guys!! I hope you're having an amazing day! About this chapter, I know I promised you angst, and it's coming, I swear, just bear with me and in the next chapter your reward will come.

SIMON

 

“Oh, come on, Simon, it’s not that hard.” Penny sighs miserably and rests her head in her hand.

“It’s not my fault, I’m too hungry to concentrate!” I protest. She shakes her head at me. Just then, Baz walks past, Dev and Niall tightly following.

“Having trouble with your studies, Snow? Why am I not surprised?” he snickers.

“Oh, fuck a nine-toed troll, Baz. Magickal history is hard.” I retort, my cheeks burning _(of anger, of course)_.

“With a brain like yours, I suppose it must be, yes.” He smirks and starts walking away. I try to stand up, but Penny pushes me down back to my chair.

“He’s not worth it. Now come on: think. There’s only one era left to cover. I don’t want to sit here all day.” she says and places a pencil in front of me.

 

BAZ

 

That evening, I find Snow on his bed, hunched over his magickal history book. I hear him mumbling to himself at times as I sit down with the one of the books I’m currently reading. After a couple of minutes, it starts to annoy me. His magic is buzzing, and it makes it significantly harder to read.

“Snow, can you try to keep it down?” I ask him with a scowl. He looks at me, confused.

“Keep what down?” he asks, eyes foggy and tired and such a blue blue.

“I can practically hear your magic humming.”

“Oh.” He frowns and looks down. “I mean, I can’t really help it, this is just so hard to memorize.”

“It’s really not, you’re just dumb. And there are techniques to use. Reading the same text over and over won’t help you achieve anything, genius.” I reply. _I’m sorry, Snow._

“Why don’t you help me then, if it bothers you so much?” he exclaims. I feel my eyes slightly widening, but I keep my composure. Fuck. I can’t. I need him to hate me more than ever. But those pleading, puzzled eyes are too tempting, too inviting. I actually consider it for a few painful seconds.

“Alright, but not for more than five minutes.” I answer. _I hate myself._ I slowly approach his bed and he moves towards the wall, freeing a space for me to sit.

 

SIMON

 

Baz sits down next to me. His brow furrows as he reads through the page.

“What is it you don’t understand? This is all quite simple.” He says with a sneer.

“If you’re just going to be an arsehole, I don’t want your bloody help.” I reply and turn to him with a pout. He sighs.

“Oh alright. So, tell me, what do you need help with?” Baz mutters and looks away.

“The part with the old spells. They’re almost all in Latin and there’s no translation in the book… Could you-? I mean there’s no explanation either.”

“Alright, well first of all, the reason is religion. A couple of hundred years ago, the most common form of Christianity was Catholicism, which mainly used Latin prayers and songs. People would have to memorize these prayers, which takes a lot of just repeating over and over. Since the phrases were used so frequently, they gained a lot of power. However, today, most churches, catholic or not, use the official language of the country. Thus, these old spells are-“ I can’t help but giggle.

“What, Snow?” He stares at me irritably. I steal the book from him.

“It’s just… You use like, I don’t know, snobby words. It’s funny.” I explain, and I feel the smile forming on my lips as he suddenly looks like he wants to kill himself. Annoying Baz is undoubtedly the most satisfying thing after correcting Penny’s grammar (which has only happened once, and she realized it so quickly I barely had the time to open my mouth and point it out.

“Do you want me to make it more lucid for you?” He grins mischievously.

“What does that even mean?” I ask, suddenly very conscious of the smile now growing to my ears. He chuckles lightly and shakes his head.

“Let’s just continue, shall we?” He yanks the textbook out of my grip and puts it in his lap, trying to decipher the Latin spells.

“Come on, I have a right to know if you insulted me!” I exclaim. This is boring, anyways.

“No, you don’t. Go look it up in a dictionary if it’s so damn important. There should be one on my desk.” He says. I stand up, reaching for the enormous book, before I realize something.

“Uhm…” I start. He doesn’t look up.

“What, Snow?” He mumbles, stray locks falling in front of his eyes. He rakes his hand through his hair, and _there it is. That too-perfect-to-be-human look. Because he’s not human._ He’s a vampire. An evil one.

 

BAZ

 

“I… forgot the word.” Snow blushes.

“Of course, you did. Now let’s be done with this, for Merlin’s sake.” I say and he sticks his tongue out and drops down next to me again. I feel a jab in my insides. I have to do it soon, I can’t take it anymore. The room is starting to feel like a shrinking card box, I can’t escape him. I shake myself back to reality.

“Okay, so this one: ‘Sicut in caelo, et in terra’ basically translates to ‘as in heaven, as on earth’, and is from the Pater Noster, a daily prayer. It’s actually a bit of a funny story, since what it does is to make you feel like you’re on clouds, a bit like a hallucination, but if two people cast it together, they experience the same things, and can see each other.” I tell him. He grins when I explain the last part.

“Oh, so it’s a bit like getting high and then taking a peek inside each other’s brains?” He looks fascinated and _I want to bite him._

“I guess, yeah.” I say, and he shifts excitedly, starting to pick at his hair.

“That’s amazing! I need to try it some time.” His smile is like a beautiful crescent moon to accentuate the constellations of freckles on his cheeks. I need help.

“Just do it as far away from me as possible, you’re strange enough when you’re clean.”

“And there he is… I was starting to wonder where the real, mean Baz had gone.” He retorts, scrunching his forehead angrily. “I was actually starting to think it was getting kind of nice.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble then, Snow. I feel like it’s been far more than 5 minutes and I have more important things to do.” I didn’t burst his bubble, I burst mine. _He’s making it too hard._ _‘Kind of nice?’ I’m already not really alive, Snow. Don’t kill me with your words, use your sword. Do what everyone wants you to do. What you're destined to do.  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, these first 2 chapters are very soft and I promise it's going to get juicier later on... I just kind of wanted to have a bit of an introduction, but now that I feel like that's done I can start with the more fun stuff. *rubs hands together with evil grin*  
> The next chapter is going to be longer, so I'm sorry if it takes a while for me to upload..


	3. Just Kill Me Already

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon finds Baz when he's feeding, and Baz's plan goes to hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WAAAAH WE'RE HERE GUYS: THE BEGINNING OF THE ANGST EXTRAVAGANZA!  
> Before you read it, it might be good to know that I'm writing this as if Baz didn't get kidnapped by the numpties until later on, so he actually comes back for the school start (so far the story has played out like a couple of weeks in on the semester).  
> I'm really excited, which is why this chapter is extra long!! It's only 2500 words-ish, but hey, I'm a lazy lil' shit. Have a good read and a nice day! <3

BAZ

 

My legs feel heavy as I make my way down to the catacombs. A chilly breeze whines past my face and slaps my cheek. I shudder. I sit in front of Le Tombeau des Enfants for a while, thinking of mother, before I decide to find a rat to feed on.

My steps echo against the stone walls and I hum the melancholic melody I’ve been playing on the violin lately. It’s an adaptation of one of Chopin’s piano pieces. As I sink my teeth deep into the warm body of the rat and inhale the heavy smell of blood, I hear steps approaching with the loud breathing of Snow ( _mouthbreather_ ) and I freeze. How is he here? He never follows me this late, never after 4 am, he always-

“So it’s true?” He slowly takes a step towards me, his legs slightly shaky, his gaze curious but careful, scanning my face, taking in the fangs, the blood-stained lips, a drop of red rolling down my chin. Realization and fear flashes through his eyes, like arrows. I’m the target and he splits me in half. _Bullseye._ For a few seconds, I freeze. My entire existence, my world, my life is over. However dramatic it might sound, it’s the truth. _I’m sorry, mother._ I take a deep breath. _Why isn’t he doing anything?_

“What are you waiting for, Snow? Go.” I reply, drying my mouth on the back of my hand.

 

SIMON

 

So, it’s true.  He is a vampire. I don’t know why I’m not “going”, like he says. I should run to the Mage. Get Baz expelled, probably killed. _But for some reason…_

“Go where?” I ask even though I know exactly what he means. He looks at me with a blank face. It’s so still and calm, almost like that of a doll. Pale porcelain skin, dark eyelashes just barely fluttering, glassy, grey eyes. _So easy to shatter._

“You know what I mean, Snow. You’re thick, but not that thick.” He sighs and the porcelain cracks. The pain in his eyes is overwhelming, like it’s been building up for years and years, only just fighting its way up to the surface. “Go to your beloved mage, tell him all about my little secret. And then, whatever he prefers, let him send his men after me, or have you kill me.”

“Baz, I-” I start. He doesn’t let me finish.

“No. Don’t talk. It only makes it worse. I know I’m a monster, so please, go ahead. Everyone wants you to. You want to. Just please, please don’t talk to me. I don’t want to hear your heroic little speech.” He says. His voice barely covers the words, eyes fixed on the ground. If it wasn’t Baz, I would think he was on the verge of crying. I stand as still as I can, just breathing, watching a small lock escape his slicked back hair and his fingers, long and bony, fidget, then form into fists. My magic does the same.

“Why haven’t you left yet? Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere. I know I’m done for.” He spits. His voice has grown stronger, but it’s so close, _so close_ to breaking. I don’t know what to do with all this vulnerability. I have never seen Baz like this before. I should hate him even more, think that he’s disgusting. But somehow, all I want to do is make him go back to the way he was before. His eyes remind me of lost kittens and broken bones. “Just fucking do it! If you’re not going to run to the Mage, then at least kill me now! Waiting around only makes it harder, don’t you have any mercy? Simon, please!” he begs. I don’t understand why he’s begging.

“You called me Simon.” I stutter. It feels weird. By now, my magic is a pulsating clump of dirt and TNT. I feel worms digging through the powder and goo and it tickles and I wish I could scratch it but I can’t. The same worms seem to be eating my heart up from inside, making little holes for the blood to leak out of.

“Yes, I did. Because you’re standing there like an idiot and I don’t know why, and it hurts. So please, please just leave me alone. Can I at least spend my last moments with my mother?”

I hadn’t realized. He thinks he’s going to die. _I_ think he’s going to die for fuck’s sake. But that doesn’t sound right. Baz dying doesn’t feel good. I always thought I wanted him to, but in front of the messy reality I feel sick. So, I decide maybe it can wait.

“Baz, I’m not going to talk to the Mage.” I say. He looks up at me with anger in his eyes.

“If this is some trick, it’s not working. I already told you, I’m not going anywhere, you don’t have to worry about me running away. Besides, you could easily find me with magic. I’m not strong enough to keep myself hidden from the Mage’s men on my own.” He says. His voice is starting to go from sad to mad and from mad to furious.

“But, I’m serious, Baz. I won’t tell him, not for now anyway.” I insist. He laughs darkly.

“What a relief. And I believe you, of course.” His eyebrow seems to want to fly off his face.

“Look, you haven’t actually hurt anyone, and-“

“STOP!” he roars, flying up to stand in front of me. I flinch. “This is not what you’re supposed to do, Snow, don’t you understand? You have a destiny, a future, and I’m standing in your way. We’re fucking arch enemies, for Crowley’s sake! Why can’t you just kill me?”

“What?”

“You fucking hear me, don't act dumb! You know what you're supposed to do, and you want to! Sing the fucking song Snow, call upon the damned sword!” He screams at my face, and I can see a tinge of red on his cheeks, like the fire in his eyes is making his skin burn. “Do it!” He cries, now with tears in his eyes and that’s it. I wake up.

“I don't want you to die, you idiot!” I shout, and I feel a bit of spit leave my mouth and land on his cheek. He doesn’t bother to wipe it away. He just stands there, dumbstruck, so much pain and confusion written all over him. For once, I feel like I’m the one who reads him, not the other way around.

“Baz, I hate you. But you don’t deserve to die.” I whisper. He grimaces and seems to find his anger again as he inhales shakily.

“Oh really? Oh really? I’m a fucking monster, Snow! I should've died years ago, I shouldn't be standing here like a fucking moron, having accomplished absolutely nothing in my life! All I ever did was hurt you, sabotage you plans and ruin your life! I'm nothing but pain, Snow!” He starts screaming again, but his voice keeps breaking and the tears flowing down his cheeks make him seem so small. _Hug him._ Wait, no, that’s not right.

I observe him as he starts crying. I can’t move.

_Hug him._

He’s shaking now, the locks of hair in his face drenched, his hands covering his face, and it looks as though his fangs are no longer out. _Hug him._

“Why can’t you just end me, Snow?” He whimpers. He’s so close I can feel his breath on my face, and it feels strangely familiar. _Reach out._ I don’t. We stand in silence for what feels like hours, until I blink and something shifts.

“Why don’t _you_ kill _me_?” I ask. He drags his gaze up from the floor to meet my eyes, but then lets it wander across the wall to hide in a corner.

“Because I can’t.” He answers.

“You’re stronger than me! Besides, isn’t that what your fangs do?” This should feel dangerous and stupid, like giving him ideas. But I just know _. I know_ I have to ask. He laughs again, and it’s so choked and full of sorrow. His face inches closer to mine and I swallow thickly, when he suddenly turns around and runs to the exit. I dart after him, but it’s so dark, and _damn,_ _he’s fast._

 

BAZ

 

Branches whip my face as I run through the trees, my feet stumbling over roots. The moonlight gives a sickly cold, blue light over everything, and the shadows look like monsters chasing me. But the monsters in these woods won’t chase me. They’re too scared of me.

So I run. And run. My legs are hurting, my feet dying, and my lungs feel like they’re full of snow. It’s cold, and it’s powdery and makes it impossible to breathe and it hurts, and it’s not just snow, it’s _Snow_.

I don’t know where I’m going I just need to go _away. Far, far away. As far away from him as possible._

I can still hear his voice in my head, and it makes me want to stop, to let myself fall to the ground and weep, like my eyes are begging to. But my legs keep going. And my heart is too weak.

_I don’t want you to die._

This is not how it was supposed to go.

 

SIMON

 

I search the entire night. I wander around the wavering woods, I even try using some spells, but **“Come out, come out wherever you are”** doesn’t seem to work, and **“Scooby-Dooby-Doo, where are you”** only results in a cartoony dog popping up in front of me and when I spell him away with an “ **As you were!”** , I somehow manage to spell away the ground he was standing on as well.

When it starts getting lighter again, I decide to give up and go back to the dormitories for a couple of hours of sleep. Hopefully, he’ll come back on his own, but I have a horrible feeling it won’t be anytime soon.

PENNY

 

“Great snakes, Simon, what have you done? You look horrible!” I ask when Simon sits down next to me at breakfast. Not only is he 20 minutes late, which means the scones are cold and almost gone (and Simon NEVER misses the scones), but his hair is even messier than usual (if that’s even possible) and he’s covered in dirt, dressed in what looks what yesterday’s clothes. I reach for his head to pull out a leaf from the tangled curls.

“I… It’s a long story. We need to talk, but not here.” He says under his morning breath.

“Merlin and Morgana, Snow, you reek! You better have a bloody good explanation, I waited for you for 20 minutes. Saved you a scone by the way.” I mutter and push the plate towards him.

“I’m not hungry, actually. Thanks, though.” He says and attempts a smile. I just stare at him.

“Ladies and gents, listen up, we are witnessing a historical phenomenon: Simon Snow is not hungry! Tickets start at 5£ each, but he’ll probably be hungry again at noon, so better hurry up if you want to see it!” I say jokingly (gotta love sarcasm), but his face isn’t changing. “Simon. Seriously, what’s the matter?” I ask and Simon sighs.

“It’s Baz.” He mumbles. “I saw him. He was… like, drinking, you know…”

“Drinking what?” I ask. Then it hits me. “Oh. Oh. Aleister Crowley, so it’s true! But- are you absolutely sure?”

“Yes. Trust me Penny, he’s a- you know.”

“Sigfried and fucking Roy.”  I whisper, trying to contain my excitement. “Have you talked to the Mage, yet?”

“That’s the thing.” Simon says. “I’m not going to.”

“Why not? You’ve been waiting for this your entire time here at Watford.”

“I know, but when I really think about it, he hasn’t done anything wrong. I mean, it’s not like he goes around turning random people. And- And I don’t know, I just…”

“Simon, sometimes I really fail to understand your logic. The Chimera? The stairs? Everything he has done to stop you from helping the Mage?”

“But- It’s not- His family…” he starts. I know what he means, and I actually agree with him, but I don’t like it. Someone has to argue against it, it’s bloody Basilton Grimm-Pitch we’re discussing.

“But wait a minute, does he know you saw him? He isn’t at breakfast, but then again, that happens sometimes.” I ask.

“Yes, he got really angry. Then it was weird, almost like he wanted me to kill him. Then he ran away, I think to the Wavering Woods. I have no idea where he is. Penny, what are we going to do?” His eyes are nervous and flickering. “We can’t go to the Mage, and what about his family? Is he going to tell them? What if they think I’m going to tell the Mage? Will they try and stop me?”

“Simon, calm down. It will all be okay. Classes start soon, but let’s meet up during the break like usual, and we’ll discuss it. In the meantime, just don’t think about it.”

 

BAZ

 

I don’t know where I am. It’s dark and cold and strangely humid. I’m so, so thirsty. Outside, I can hear weird little mutterings and shuffling around. It doesn’t sound human. I try to move, but I’m trapped in some sort of box. _Fuck._

 

SIMON

 

It’s been 4 days now, and Baz is still not back. The Mage called me up to his office to ask me if I knew where he was, which I thought was quite dumb, because what was he expecting? It’s not exactly like Baz would send me a goodnight text with his location and a kiss-face emoji.

Penny says that we shouldn’t worry too much, that he’s probably hiding with his family, but I don’t think so. According to the Mage, Baz’s father had contacted him when his son hadn’t come home for the weekend like he was supposed to. Apparently, Mr. Grimm was furious.

 

MORDELIA

 

Father is furious. This morning, mum came into my room and said not to go downstairs, not quite yet. She said it was best not to make it worse. I’m scared of father sometimes. When mum holds me it’s alright, but right now mum says she can’t hold me, because she must talk to father.

Baz is not home. I don’t know where he is. I think that’s why father is angry. I hope they don’t find him, because father will be even worse. I don’t like it when he’s like this. I have to be very, very quiet and stay in my room. Sometimes I try sneaking out on my tippy toes, but then I end up going back inside because it’s scary.

My room is cold. I want Bazzy to come home. Mum said I still can’t come out of my room. She looked sad. I wanted to hug her, but she said not now. She had a red mark on her arm, but I don’t think she ran into the door.

_Bazzy, where are you?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so about the Mordelia POV, I think I'm going to try and incorporate Baz's family a bit, I like to think that Mordelia and him actually secretly really care about each other, even though it might look like hate from the outside. Have a nice day! :)


	4. Still gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz is still stuck in the coffin, but he's trying to get out. Simon, losing his mind, goes to Ebb for advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I'm sorry this chapter is shorter than planned, but oh boy the next one is gong to be exciting! Anyway, please enjoy! :)

BAZ

 

It appears I have been kidnapped by fucking numpties. They don’t seem to understand that I need both regular food and blood, so I’m getting weaker and weaker each day. My magic is gone, and it’s pitch dark. _Pitch dark. Ha. Ha. Bloody ha._

I would’ve thought it more boring, being trapped in what I think might be a coffin (those numpties have been watching too many films, if they’re even intelligent enough to do that), but it’s more depressing than boring. Besides, the minor panic attacks I get about 4-5 times a day spice it up a bit. But I couldn’t give less fucks. I hope I die here. It’s a pity I never got to kiss Simon Snow. But who was I kidding? That plan was shite. Of course, he had to play Jesus, that damned hero. He just couldn’t kill me. It makes no sense whatsoever, he should have, maybe he would have under different circumstances, yet I still can’t shake this feeling of _I should have known._

Fuck.

I don’t even know what day it is.

 

SIMON

 

Baz has been gone for 2 weeks. I don’t know what to do. Penny doesn’t seem to care too much, she says I should be happy, that he’s out of the way for now, and since his family doesn’t seem to know where he is, he’s at least not off plotting with them. But it still bothers me. So, after my last class, I decide to talk to the one person I know who always understands: Ebb.

She’s sitting on a tree stump, feeding a baby goat. She’s all wet eyes, weird smell and dirty hair, but I still love her.

“What’s wrong, Simon?” She asks before I have the time to say hi.

“Umm, okay, well… It’s Baz.” I start.

“The boy’s gone, I noticed. But that can’t be what’s bothering you, you never liked him, did you?” She reads my eyes like the daily newspaper, swiftly and without too much worry. Yet she’s very thorough and when I fidget she smiles her sad little Ebb smile. “Ah. It is what’s bothering you, innit?” she adds, letting the baby goat run off to its friends, running around on the grass.

“It is. How do you do that? You just… know.” I ask, amazed even though it’s the hundredth time.

“I just do. Now I know you need to get it out, so tell me, what’s been going through your mind?”

 

BAZ

 

I wake up with a gasp ( _nightmare, again)_ and I almost choke on the murky, damp air. It’s yet another thing weakening me. I don’t think I’ve gotten close to enough oxygen in the days (Weeks? _Months??_ ) I’ve been here. I don’t know if vampires need the same amount of oxygen as Normals and mages do, but I suspect if that isn’t the case, a Normal would’ve died long ago.

If I don’t die here, my father’s going to kill me for getting into this mess. And for not getting rid of Simon Snow. One of the million things Malcolm Grimm doesn’t tolerate is not being obeyed. Another one is being defeated by something so stupid as numpties. I need to get out of here. The panic is slowly rising in me when I get an idea.

 I already tried picking the lock with the hairpin I had in my pocket (My hair is getting quite long, what is one to do?), but it just wouldn’t work from inside. And the countless times I banged myself against the walls didn’t seem to help. I even attempted scratching the lock out by taking the little metal stick from my belt and etching a not-so-perfect half moon right where the lock is located (WHY WOULD THERE EVEN BE A LOCK ON A COFFIN?). But after counting seconds for almost an hour, I had barely got anywhere, and my arm was half-dead.

There’s only one thing I haven’t yet tried. Tricking a numpty to open, and then attacking. It happened once by accident, when I had banged my head against a wall one too many times and my head started bleeding. It hurt like fuck and I screamed, after which they took me out to make sure I wasn’t dead. Of course, I was defence-less with that (probable) concussion, a dozen of those disgusting creatures surrounding me and no magic. The problem is that if I scream, more than one numpty will come. They’re primitive and dumb, but they always stick together. I just need to lure one into getting close enough to hear me. Preferably when the others are sleeping or out doing whatever it is numpties do. I just need the perfect moment…

 

SIMON

 

“It’s just… I’m so used to seeing him all the time. I always make sure he’s not off planning something, but now… I don’t even know where he is and it’s really unnerving, I mean, there’s nothing I can do to prevent his evil schemes. And, I don’t know. It’s weird, being alone in my room. Kind of- not- I don’t… Like, it’s boring, you know? Not that I miss him or anything, but I don’t have anything to do, now. And it kind of makes me all jumpy, like I’m just waiting for him to attack me from every other corner.”

“Oh, Simon.” She smirks, and it’s so full of sorrow and love and this woody feeling, like moss and fallen leaves.

“I don’t know what to do. See, something happened, before he disappeared, and I think it might be my fault. I really want to tell you, but you have to promise not to tell the mage. I mean, this could kill him if the wrong people found out.”

“Of course.” She states.

“Okay… Well, he’s a vampire. For real. I saw him, fangs out and everything. He was so strange about it. I told him I wouldn’t tell the mage because, well I don’t really know, I just knew he would be in so much trouble, I knew he could get killed and I didn’t want that. It felt… Odd.”

“Hm.” Ebb mumbles, my last words seeming to light a spark in her eyes.

“I just, when he told me he couldn’t kill me I was so confused, and then he actually seemed serious and he looked so, so sad, Ebb. I felt sorry for him. I felt sorry for BAZ. How strange is that? How is it- I don’t- What should I even do? I don’t even really want to be enemies with him, I mean he seems to hate me but then he doesn’t… If he doesn’t then I… What’s the point of all this? Or did he mean he didn’t want war? Maybe to protect his family? But his family wants me dead, I’m sure of it!”

“Simon, slow down. The boy doesn’t hate you. He hates the idea of you.” Ebb tells me.

“But… How can you be so sure of that?”

“I see him every day, watching you. He looks angry, but not hateful. There’s a big difference between those, Simon.”

“I know… but- It- It’s still hard to believe, I mean, he’s so incredibly mean to me. To everyone, to be fair.”

“Hurt causes hurt. It will always be like that. We’re all born with the power to hurt, but the need to use it isn’t natural. It grows in you like a parasite when others hurt you. He’s in a lot of pain, that Baz. I knew his mother. Terrible loss that must’ve been for him…” Ebb’s eyes start watering again. We sit quietly for a while, my head resting on her shoulder.

“If Baz doesn’t really hate me, do you think we can ever not be enemies?” I ask quietly.

“Maybe.” She whispers, voice stolen from the lump in her throat.

“But what if he’s hurt, should I find him and try to help? What if that scares him away again? What if he doesn’t want to be stop being enemies?”

“I can’t tell you what to do, Simon. It’s up to you and him to solve this. I will tell you one thing, though: Right now, it sounds like you’re going through a lot of emotions at once. I think if Baz is the one causing it, he’s the one who can solve it.”

“What if he’s dead?” A lump is forming in my throat as well.

“Then you’ll just have to carry on.” Silence takes over again. Ebb always says a good sob does you good, but I don’t want to cry. Not because of Baz. So, I hold my tears in and try to focus on something good. _Sour cherry scones. Roast beef._ I’m not hungry. _Penny. Agatha._ Agatha. I haven’t talked to her in so long. Everything’s a great bloody mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, here we are. I know I said this last week as well, but the next chapter might take a bit longer... I'm planning some really angsty stuff, and there's probably going to be graphic depictions of violence, which I didn't originally plan. I'm going to put a warning on the work, but I wanted to tell you here as well, just so you know it's coming. I'm really, truly sorry if that isn't something you enjoy reading, but I feel like it's become important to the plot... There's going to be more fluff towards the end, don't worry! <3


	5. I Want To Break Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz manages to get out of the coffin and find Fiona. Simon tries to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHH ok this is a long one guys! (I mean compared to the other chapters at least)  
> I made a little playlist for this fic since it revolves a little bit around music. However, if you're going to play it while reading, wait until Baz's POV to play the first song. That way it should be nicely timed :) Enjoy and have a nice day!
> 
> I Want To Break Free - Queen  
> How To Disappear Completely - Radiohead  
> Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want - The Smiths  
> Hey Jude - The Beatles
> 
> A couple of extras cuz why not:  
> Still Ill - The Smiths  
> Twenty Four Hours - Joy Division  
> Lazarus - David Bowie

BAZ

 

_Simon._

 

SIMON

 

Agatha. I don’t even know if we’re still together after the thing with her and Baz in the Wavering Wood. _Fuck him. It’s not fair. He can’t be that smart, strong, graceful, that fucking perfect and still get Agatha. I will not let him have her. Crowley, I don’t even know if I deserve her, but it doesn’t matter because I know for a fact that Baz doesn’t._

_BAZ_

_Simon Snow. His name fascinates me. Isn’t it ironic how Snow can be so hot? Not only attractive but full of passion and warmth and radioactive magic. He’s my own personal sun. And just like the sun, he keeps me alive. I need to get out, for him. I should die here, I know I don’t deserve this willpower, this fight. Yet Simon keeps me going. I can’t die just yet. I need to see him one last time. Even if it’s from far away, even if I’m killed the moment I catch a glimpse of bronze curls and blueblueblue irises, peeking up from under lush, golden eyelashes._

I can hear loud snoring and I know the numpty sitting outside my coffin is weak. It’s one of the older ones, he has a limp (I may not be able to see, but a lot can be deducted from steps and grunts) and a tendency to easily be irritated. I’ve been waiting a long, long time for him to be on night watch.

“Psst.”

He turns around. “Hrm?” he grunts.

_I want to break free._

“I’m really hurt. I can’t move. Can you please help me? If I die, you’ll all be killed.” I don’t actually know that, but assuming the Mage is behind this, I don’t think he would have the balls to actually kill me, just keep me away for a while. Make sure I don’t spy on him and Snow for the Old Families.

At first it seems like he doesn’t really understand, but I know this one is smarter than the others. It still hates its comrades, which is why I don’t think he’s going to wake anyone up until necessary. This means if I’m fast enough to kill him, I can run out. Hopefully, my magic will come back as soon as I get out of here, and I’ll be able to get to Fiona and heal myself.

I pretend to gasp for air, and give out a whimper, when the door suddenly unlocks, and I jump up to attack the numpty. I press the shirt I took off just a few seconds ago into its mouth to muffle the sounds. I hit him over and over again with a tight grip around its throat. I feel like I’m suffocating with him. _In, out, Baz. Breathe. Fuck._ My muscles are starting to fail me, but I keep going and within a couple of minutes, I’m sitting on a cadaver.

I try to stand up without falling over and start making my way to the exit as quietly as I can. _Snap._ I stepped on something. I don’t know what the fuck it was, but it was loud, and I can hear a numpty groaning in the next room. Steps are approaching, and I run. My legs twitch when I feel a numpty land on my back, biting into my shoulder and pulling my hair. I try to shake it off but I’m _so weak._ It claws at my skin, trying to stay on and another one launches at me, missing me slightly, but slicing the side of my chest open with its claw. I scream and suddenly the adrenaline kicks in. _I want to break free._ I sprint for the door, the numpty on my back starting to lose its grip, scratches long cuts along my back before landing on the floor with a thump. The others are tightly following, but I manage to get outside. I don’t pay attention to my surroundings, I just run. I run until I can’t hear the howling of those disgusting little monsters. I run until I can’t feel anything but agonizing pain and fatigue.

_Simon._

 

SIMON

 

I’m still not hungry. At tea today, I tried having a scone and I almost threw up. Penny says I look worse than I did after summer break. I’ve started to go outside the school grounds to search for Baz. Not far, just maybe a bit deeper into the Wavering woods than I should. I also followed the main road a couple of miles both ways. I even went to London with Penny. It was supposed to be a fun day out, we got special permission from the Mage since I missed the London school trip because of the injuries I got after fighting the Chimera. I was really surprised he let us leave, but grateful nonetheless. However, Penny got a little mad at me when all I wanted was to look for Baz.

But we didn’t find him. And it’s starting to consume me. I can’t think of anything else, can’t stop worrying. Is he alright? Is he going to appear in the middle of the night to kill me, using some dark spell he discovered while he was gone? Maybe he figured out a way to escape the Anathema, and make my death look like an accident.

I don’t know, and it’s killing me. Quite literally, according to Penny. I’m thinner than ever, and the circles around my eyes are darker than Baz’s soul.

 

BAZ

 

My magic still isn’t working, not because of any curse, but because I’m too fucking drained to cast anything successfully. That’s when I suddenly notice I know where I am. This is London. How could I have been in the middle of a bloody gigantic city without even noticing?

The cars whine past me, people hustling around, pushing me from side to side. My feet are tripping over each other, I almost fall out on the street, but I manage to somewhat keep my balance.

_Simon._

I think I know the way to Fiona’s apartment from here. It’s only about half an hour. I just need to not die for another half an hour. Three people stop to ask me if I need help, but I just barely whisper a “No, I’m fine.” and carry on dying, dragging myself over the pavement. It’s hard trying to walk normally when you’re injured all over and nearly freezing to death in a thin undershirt.

 

SIMON

 

Baz. Fuck.

 

BAZ

 

I’m nearly there, I can see the building. When I’m finally standing outside I discover the com is broken. _FUCK._ I need to use magic. I try to gather the last bits of power I have to utter a shaky “ **Knock, knock. Who’s there?** ” and practically crawl up the stairs. _Thank magic she only lives on the second floor._

When she opens the door, she gasps, grabs me and _throws me in a closet,_ her hand on my mouth to prevent me from making a sound.

“Your father” she whispers. Panic rises within me for the millionth time today and I feel the walls getting smaller and smaller, the air getting thinner and thinner, my head so full it’s about to explode. I wonder if this is what Simon feels like before he goes off. I’m trapped. My limbs are stuck, I can’t move. I’m back inside the coffin and I can’t move _I can’t breathe Ican’tseehelp. Help me. Simon. It hurts. The sun burns me. My skin is on fire and my heart is a clump of charcoal and bubbling lava. It hurts._

_Simon._

SIMON

 

I can’t sleep. It’s only 8, I shouldn’t even be in bed. Yet, here I am, lacking the strength to do anything else than worry.

I think about Baz, and how he’s such a prick, such a damned, perfect arsehole. And a vampire, at that. An evil one. Who hates me. And I hate him back. I hate his stupid smarts and looks and his brilliant sarcasm. He doesn’t even seem to have any feelings, I’m sure he’s just toying with Agatha. I wonder if that’s a vampire thing or a Pitch thing. Maybe it’s just a Baz thing.

I twist and turn but the image of Baz’s scared eyes is imprinted on my mind. I feel like I’m reliving that night in the catacombs. I can hear his voice, quiet but forceful, calm but furious and most of all so melancholic I feel my insides churn.

 

FIONA

 

“Baz! Merlin and Morgana, where the fuck have you been? You look horrible, fuck, Baz can you hear me?” I grab his shoulders gently, trying to pull him out of the closet without hurting him even more. “Baz? Baz, wake up! Basilton! Don’t die on me, alright? You’re going to be fine, listen to me, it’s all going to be fine.” My voice is a bit shaky, but fuck, I need to be strong for him. “I can’t lose you, alright Baz?” His eyes are just barely open, but I’m not sure he can see anything. It looks like he’s passed out. _Fuck._ “We need to get you to Watford, alright, Baz? You can’t stay here, your father comes here every day, looking for you. I’ll talk to the Mage. I may hate that man, but we have one thing in common: we despise Malcolm Grimm. Okay, yes. I’ll do that. Okay, just hang in there Baz.”

I cast a “ **light as a feather”** to make him lighter and then I pick him up and run down the stairs. When I finally manage to close the car door with his long limbs tucked inside, I realize I forgot to lock the door. _Fuck it._ I jump in the driver’s seat and slam my foot on the gas pedal.

 

SIMON

 

Tyres screech against the concrete and a car stops outside Watford. I wonder who it could possibly be. It’s about 1 am, for Crowley’s sake.

I slowly approach, hiding behind the bushes. The car is only about 20 metres away, and I can see a woman getting out of the car. She hurries over to the passenger seat, yanking the door open, and _oh. OH._

I run towards them. _Is he dead? He looks- FUCK!_ The woman seems to panic when she sees me, and gets her wand out, pointing it straight at me. I stop abruptly. I’m close enough to see her more clearly now. She looks a lot like Baz, I’m guessing she’s a relative of his.

“It’s alright, I only want to help.” I say, throwing my hands up.

“And how should I know you’re not lying? I know how much he hates you, the feeling must be mutual. Go run to the Mage, I can handle this on my own.” She spits fiercely.

“You do know I’m his roommate, right?” I say. She narrows her eyes. “Just please let me help. We need to take him to the infirmary. Does the rest of the family know? I mean, you’re his-?”

“Aunt, yes, and no they don’t know. Now if you really insist, help me carry him up the stairs. The spell has worn out, and I’d rather not waste my magic, since we’re going to need to heal him.”

I nod and sling my arm under Baz’s to lift his left shoulder up. His aunt does the same on the right side.

“Yeah, I’m guessing the nurse is not going to be enough. Plus, she needs to take the time to contact the family directly. I know ‘cuz the first time I got in she got all worked up. There was no one to contact.” I laugh grimly.

“Can you please shut up?” Baz’s aunt says. She sounds just like Baz, but a bit less stoic and angrier. “Wait, hold on. Is there no way to stop her from doing that?”

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s some sort of protocol thingy.”

“Fuck!” She whispers. “And we can’t go to your room, I won’t be able to go inside. Damn it, I’m going to regret this. I need to talk to the Mage; can you try to heal him? We’ll join you as soon as we’ve worked out a solution, I promise.”

“The Mage’s not here. He’s at some meeting with the Coven. I’ll try my best, but my magic is really inpredicta-”

“Sweet bloody numpty-fucker, if you let him die, I will rip you skin off and hang it on these very walls, do you hear me?” She asks through her teeth.

“Yes.” _This is bad. My magic is shite. Or rather, I’m shite at controlling it. But I can’t say that. There’s no other solution, apparently? She hasn’t even told me what’s going on, why can’t his family know? What happened to him? Is he unconscious? What is going on?_

We’re outside the door to the dormitories, and I feel like throwing up.

“Is there no other way? Can’t you just take him home and heal him there?”

“No, look, you don’t understand. Please, please promise me you won’t let him die. He’s not the monster you think he is, just… Please.”

“I will, I swear.” I whisper. She stares at me for a couple of seconds, then runs away, probably to try and contact the Mage. I have no idea what’s going on. I lift Baz up and drag him inside, trying not to make any of his bruises worse. Placing him on his bed, he whimpers.

“Baz? Baz are you- can you hear me? Baz, it’s me, Simon. I’m not going to hurt you I swear. I’m going to try to help you, okay?”

 

BAZ

 

It smells like home. It smells like the sun and scones and a little bit of sweat and I’m warm and someone is hugging me, I think. There are warm, strong arms around me, so it must be a hug. Someone that smells like Simon is hugging me. The person wearing the Simon perfume suddenly lets me go and I’m on a big, cold thing, all alone. I whimper. The person has a nice voice. It’s a Simon voice. They’re talking to me I think. Baz baz baz baz. My name is funny. It hurts. It hurts all over. It’s funny.

“BAZ!” I open my eyes slowly. The person with the Simon perfume and the Simon voice is wearing a Simon mask! No. No, it’s not a mask. It’s Simon. Simon! Simon Snow! Wait, no, bad. Very bad. He said he’s going to help me, he doesn’t need to help me, Simon needs to kill me.

“Snow.” I cough. The sound of my own voice wakes me up a bit, and things are getting a little clearer.

“Baz, oh my god, you’re awake.” He breathes faster than I’ve ever heard him speak. ‘ _Oh my god’, haha what a funny little saying. Simon, you’re funny._

“What are you- oh right, that’s a Normal thing. Wait, did you just call me funny? And you said Simon. You called me Simon!”

“No!” I exclaim. _FUCK. Did I say that out loud?_

“Yes, you did… Anyway, Baz, I need your help. Because I need to heal you, but we both know how my magic is. So, like if there’s like… Just… Can you? Do you have any advice? Or something? Like- uhm… something to calm down, or… I don’t know, I’m just so nervous because I don’t want to hurt you, and I- I’m afraid and I think that might only make it worse and sorry, I’m babbling, I should shut up.”

_Simon Snow doesn’t want to hurt me._

SIMON

 

“Simon, you’re already hurting me.” He says. It’s so soft. He said _Simon_ again and it was like velvet, his voice deep and gentle. But why would I be hurting him? I don’t understand… Unless.

“Oh, come on, Baz. That’s ridiculous, even for you! Is your pride hurt now, because Simon fucking Snow is trying to save your life? You would rather die, wouldn’t you? Well, fuck a nine-toed troll, Baz, because I’m not letting you die.” I say, feeling my ears go red and my voice rising. He tries to move his head and fails, letting a pained grunt escape his throat.

“Why not?” he asks, breaking the uneasy silence.

“Because.” I answer, my face heating up.

“But we both know that’s how it ends. Why do you need to drag it out? Can’t you see I’m suffering? I-” He stops to cough, but the movement of his chest makes him wince with pain.

“But Baz, I need to help you, please just let me help you…” I plead.

“No.” He says. There’s so much anger on his face, but his voice is too weak to carry it. He looks like an angry child not wanting to go to bed despite being exhausted.

“BAZ! PLEASE! DON’T SAY THAT! THINK OF YOUR FAMILY, YOUR FRIENDS! BAZ, FOR FUCKS SAKE I ALREADY TOLD YOU I DON’T WANT YOU TO DIE! BUT IF I CAST ANYTHING I MIGHT HURT YOU EVEN MORE! I KNOW YOU HATE ME, BUT PLEASE WHAT SHOULD I-” I pause when I see tears making shaky little stripes over his ashen skin.

“Snow. Stop. I trust you.” He starts. He’s getting worse every second. “I know… you… will-” he stops and for one second, I think he’s dead but his chest is heaving up and down, so he can’t be.

“Will what? Baz? Baz! BAZ! Please wake up! Please. Fuck. FUCK!”

I’m pretty sure he’s unconscious again. _He said he trusts me. I can do this. Hopefully. Deep breaths, Simon, deep breaths. Concentrate._

I cast a couple of **“Get well soon”s, “Back to start”s** , then a **“You’re getting warmer”** to heat him up. He’s so cold and shaky, I don’t think it worked, but I won’t give up. I won’t let him die. I cast a **“Clean as a whistle”** to be able to see if the wounds are getting any better, but I accidentally healed his shirt and I can’t see anything anyway. _Fuck. How do I take it off without making it extremely painful? And what if he wakes up and panics? Fuck._

I grab the end of the shirt carefully, slowly dragging it upwards. I manage to get it over his head by propping his arms up on the pillow. I gasp when I see his chest. It looks like something with claws attacked him. He’s covered in bruises. One of the wounds, one on the side is still bleeding little bit. The blood looks so dark against his alabaster skin it’s frighteningly fascinating.

I close my eyes and try to focus. I need stronger spells, but not so strong that I might blow him up. Suddenly, something comes to mind. I debate whether to do it. What if it doesn’t even work? It’s worth a try.

**“Hey Jude, don’t make it bad**

**Take a sad song**

**And make it better**

**Remember, to let her into your heart**

**Then you can start, to make it better”**

I sing as quietly as I can, letting magic flow into the words. I can’t help but grin when I see a small smile on Baz’s lips. His wounds are starting to heal, slowly. I pour all I can into it, making each word buzz with healing magic.

**“And any time you feel the pain**

**Hey Jude, refrain**

**Don’t carry the world upon your shoulders**

**For well you know that it’s a fool**

**Who plays it cool**

**By making his world a little colder”**

Baz opens his eyes again.

**“Hey Jude, don’t let me down”** _Oh thank god._ I want to cry. And sleep.

“You have found him, now go and get him” Baz sings, his voice so faint, so fragile. He grins and it’s beautiful. I want to hug him. So, I do. “Hey, I’m not completely healed yet, that hurts, you prick.” He stutters in a choked voice.

“Sorry.” I whisper, but I don’t move. My head rests on his chest and he’s so much softer than I would’ve expected. “Wait did you say him?” I ask.

“Hm?”

“You changed the lyrics to him.” I clarify, mumbling against pale skin.

“Uhm, yes. Do you have a problem with me being gay, Snow?” he replies in his arrogant Baz way, but quieter.

“Oh. Uhm, no, no of course not, no. No, no.” I laugh nervously. _He’s GAY?????? But what about him and Agatha in the Wavering woods? And what about- well… Okay so maybe… But…_

BAZ

 

Help. Simon Snow is on my chest and he quite literally saved my life ( _oh Simon, you’re the one carrying the world on your shoulders)_ and I can’t move, and I just told him I’m gay and fuck. What do I do now? It’s a miracle I haven’t kissed him yet. It’s taking all my willpower not to. My entire body is hurting, but he’s so warm, and I could stay like this forever.

“Are you going to stay there all night?” I ask. My voice is trembling. I’m lucky I have a pretty good excuse.

He doesn’t answer. I wait for a while, and when I hear him snore, I release a breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding in. Simon Snow is sleeping on me. Simon Snow is on my bed. Drooling on my chest. Aleister Crowley, I’m living a charmed life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and thank you so much for reading! I've received such amazing comments, and I really want you to know how happy they make me, they're what keeps me writing. :)   
> Until next time! <3
> 
> P.S. I have no idea if numpties have claws, but that's how I imagined them lol


	6. Truce?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz gets called to the Mage's office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY!!!!!!! I've had a lot of school work lately, so I haven't had the time to write that much. Therefore, this chapter is going to be quite short. I swear I'll make it up to you guys in the next chapter. Have a nice day jjsnfhjh <3  
> P.S. I feel like this is really starting to get somewhere, so if you want any updates or if you have any questions here's a link to my tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/vampirethegampire

BAZ

I wake up trapped in a warm cage. Simon’s chest crushing mine, his curls tickling my neck. I move my arm from where it’s resting over Simon’s stomach. He opens his eyes and the alarm spell turns off. I feel his shoulders tense and he scrambles out of the bed quicker than I’ve ever seen him move, not counting the time when he found out there was a special tea party with 5 different sorts of scones (that time he was like the lovechild of Usain Bolt and the Flash). We stare awkwardly at each other for a couple of seconds, neither one of us willing to say something first. I lift an eyebrow and scowl at him in an attempt to hide my inner confusion and the disarray of feelings eating away at my heart. His eyes widen, and he storms off to the bathroom.

 

SIMON

 

 _I slept in Baz’s arms. Baz held me, he actually CUDDLED me while I slept ON HIS CHEST._ I don’t know what to do. It felt so good too, up until the point where I realized what was happening.

I stand up. He looks at me and I look at him and it’s all very awkward and he’s _half naked_ and _raising an eyebrow_ and I can’t seem to look away, so I run to the bathroom before he notices. I feel a blush creeping up to my ears as I rest my head against the door. I feel so cliché, like I’m in a music video and Agatha is sitting on the other side of the door. I guess that’s closer to the truth than I want it to be. And the door separating us is Baz. The bastard. I need to talk to Agatha. And to Baz. _We slept in the same bed. We practically fucking cuddled. Don’t cuddle with the enemy. That’s like the most basic rule of all time._ I don’t know what’s happening anymore, not that I ever did, but I don’t like it.

 

BAZ

 

I get called to the Mage’s office in the middle of charms. _Fuck._ Is he going to tell father? Is he going to expel me? Maybe he finally decided it’s easier just to kill me off. I hope he did. And I hope he lets Simon do it. I want to kiss him as he buries his sword deep into my heart. Wouldn’t that be a brilliant death?

 

SIMON

 

“I’ve called Baz here as well. We need to discuss this thoroughly before anything is decided.”

“Mm…” I hum, biting down on a large, scarlet apple.

“His aunt didn’t say much, and she refused to meet me again, said it wasn’t safe. I don’t understand that woman. To be frank, that entire family is a mystery to me. An evil mystery, lurking in the shadows. I know they don’t like me, but I have no intention of letting that stop me.” The Mage says, watching me pace around the room.

“But wait, if Baz is here, innit easier to- you know- keep an eye on him? Make sure he’s not off plotting something? And since he has no contact with his family we are now a hundred percent sure he’s not spying for them, which means he’s really not-”

“-any more trouble than anyone else, yes, Simon. I suppose you’re right. Although I fail to understand why you’re defending him.”

“I’m not def-” I start but Premal steps inside, Baz behind him, tall and dark as ever.

“Basilton.” The Mage says, letting the syllables slice the air like hot knives through soft plastic. He stands up, pushing the big chair away with his knees a bit harder than necessary. The sounds of wood grinding against wood makes me wince.

“Good afternoon.” Baz utters. Had the situation been any different, I would’ve laughed at the old-fashioned phrase, but he’s calm and composed and practically oozing liquid nitrogen. They’re fighting, but if this is a game of ice and fire, I know Baz is going to win because he’s mastered them both.

I clean my throat, trying to relieve some of the pressure with a smile that doesn’t really feel right.

‘’Basilton, Basilton. How are you doing? I heard you had a rough night.” The Mage says, mimicking my grin. Baz merely nods, keeping his face frozen in the perfect stoic expression.

“I believe it would be safe for you now to pay a visit to the infirmary. I told the nurse about your family… situation.” The Mage says, words like lava spilling out of his mouth.

“I’m most grateful for your understanding. I hope it would not be too much to ask you not to ask any questions.”

“I would appreciate some kind of explanation, but you can, of course, take your time. Just pop by whenever it suits you.”

“I will.” Baz responds. His eyes are a lighter grey than usual, like frost creeping over stone. I stare into them, but he turns his head and our gazes meet. I shudder. It has gotten colder in the room, but I don’t think the Mage has any intention of moving to close the window.

“Well, you’re dismissed. I’m guessing classes are over, I made sure to call you in as late as possible. Wouldn’t want you missing anything important.”

“Of course.” Baz says, eyes still fixed on me.

 

BAZ

 

I stand in front of the man I hate the most. Or maybe it’s second most. I force myself to remain calm, poised and fierce, freezing the fire in my veins and hoping he dies of hypothermia.  

Simon takes a loud bite of his apple as he steps closer to the door, which also brings him closer to me, and I can’t believe I almost forgot he was in the room. I scowl at the poor sod and open the door for him.

“Ladies first.” I give him one of my worst smirks.

“If that was an attempt at an insult just know that you didn’t offend me, alright? Ladies are awesome, you sexist fuck!” He said, storming out.  I would’ve expected him to just do the storming off part, but of course he _has to_ be _Simon_ and do the proper thing. Sadly, my pathetic excuse for a brain (Heart? _Wait, no, don’t be ridiculous.)_ finds that very endearing. I hate him. Suddenly he stops and turns around.

“Look, Baz. We need to talk.” He sighs, awkwardly scratching his neck.

“What is there to talk about?” I ask, terrified of the answer.

“Uhm, you know, the night that, like. When we-uh. Merlin, Baz it’s not only the sleeping in the same bed I mean we need to sort all of this out!” He exclaims.

“Sort what out? I don’t have time for your nonsensical stuttering, spit it out.” I see his brows furrow, then settle, and I know that look. Simon Snow has made a decision. I can’t help but let out a small gasp when he grabs my wrist and drags me through the corridor and into a dark hallway. He looks around us and exhales.

“Alright, so for starters, the night in the catacombs. You said so many weird things, and then you ran away, and we never got a chance to sort it out, and then you disappeared for weeks, I mean Crowley, Baz, where were you? And then you show up from out of nowhere half-dead with your aunt, and what’s the deal with your family? Oh, and then I guess I saved your life and we slept together, I mean not like that but you know what I mean, and most importantly of all: I don’t want to kill you and I don’t know why and I don’t understand why you keep saying stuff that makes me believe you want me to kill you which is totally ridiculous and absurd and-

“Calm down, Snow, you’re not making any sense. And you’re imagining things, I would rather die eaten by cannibalistic Nazis than by your doing.”

“That’s more like it.” Simon mutters. “And, just so you know, about the sleeping. I don’t-”

“I know. It was a stupid mistake made by two exhausted people. We are not friends. It never happened.” I say, and Simon stares at me, wide-eyed.

“Yeah, uhm, yeah. Of course. Totally.”

 

SIMON

 

Oh.

“But, uhm, I hope you don’t mind, like… a truce? I mean, if you’re not going home over the holidays? We can’t spend Christmas fighting, that’s- sad.” I propose. Baz glares at me for far too long before finally opening his mouth.

“Fine.” He grunts.

“Nice.” I smile tentatively towards him and instantly regret it. He turns around and walks away, faster than ever.

_Oh._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok that's it guys! I hope you enjoyed it, please leave a comment and kudo it, it makes me so happy! :) <3333


	7. Tickling and Doctor Who

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agatha breaks up with Simon, and he's feeling down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY THE CHAPTERS ARE SO SHORT!! i'M TRYING MY BEST I SWEAR :'(  
> Anyway, please enjoy!

SIMON

 

“Simon?” Penny asks, sitting down next to me.

“Yes?” I dedicate a second or two to meet her eyes and then return to the plate of roast and potatoes in front of me.

“I don’t know how to tell you this. I’m going away for Christmas… to the States, to see Micah.” Penny bursts out with a big bright smile on her face.

“That’s great! I’m so happy for you! What does your family think of that, though?” I scrunch my nose in an attempt not to laugh at the thought of Premal finding out.

“Oh, I’m saving that for later. Only mum and dad know for now.” Penny replies. I chuckle, shaking my head.

“But hey, are you going to be okay here?” She asks, sounding worried all of a sudden.

“What?” I don’t understand. I know I probably won't be able to go to Agatha's house this year, but I usually spend most of the time over there alone in the TV room anyways. I'll survive.

“You haven’t forgotten, have you? About Baz? He’s not going home this year.”

“Right! God, I almost did forget for a minute there, shit- yeah I mean, we’re just gonna have to…try, I guess.” I say half-heartedly.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Si? You usually don’t muggle-swear unless something’s wrong.” Her voice and expression soften, and she tilts her head as if though she’s trying to decipher something written on my face. I mentally scribble an OK on my cheek and a smiley on my forehead.

“I guess I’m a bit scared. I don’t know what’s happening Penny. I want to not be enemies, I want to trust him, but I can’t help but wonder if it’s the right choice. What if he attacks me while my guard is down?” I ask, placing my fork on the side of the plate.

“Simon Snow with his guard down in front of Basilton Grimm-Pitch, now wouldn’t that be quite a sight?” Penny teases.

“Pen!” I exclaim.

“Sorry. Look, I don’t think he’s going to attack you, and I also don’t think that your constant worrying is any good for you. Go rewatch some Doctor Who episodes, that always makes you feel better!” She suggests, adjusting her glasses and flashing a smile at me. “And for Merlin’s sake, try to study a little. I can’t keep helping you with _all of_ your homework, I’m not your private tutor.”

“Yeah you are.” I laugh. She jokingly punches me lightly on the shoulder. “But, yeah, I will try to do my best not to stress it. I just need to talk to Agatha first.” I add, almost hesitantly.

“Finally! Crowley, I was beginning to think all hope was lost on you two! Now off you pop!”

“But- I want more potatoes.”

 

BAZ

 

I haven’t seen Snow around much today. We had one class together this morning, but he wasn’t that much different. I don’t know what I was expecting from that truce. It’s just words. He won’t magically fall in love with me because we’re not ripping each other’s heads off. We’re not friends. He still hates me. Simon Snow hates me. ~~And I hate him.~~

SIMON

 

I find Agatha out on the lawn while the sun is still barely up. She’s talking to some girl (Stella, maybe?), and I approach them, waving awkwardly.

“Is it alright if I borrow Ags for a sec?” I ask with a smile. Agatha looks a bit nervous, and it rubs off on me.

“Yeah, of course!” The girl winks to Agatha, giggles and walks away, turning her head to take a peak at us.

“Uhm…” I start.

“Look, Simon, I don’t-” She sighs. “I don’t really know what’s going on right now.”

“Me neither, that’s why I thought we should talk.” I reply, taking her hand and tentatively stroking her knuckles. She avoids my eyes, her hand lifeless between my fingers.

“Simon, I think we should break up.” She slides her hand out of my grip and retracts it back into the sleeve of her jumper.

“What?” I ask. “Why? Is it some other bloke? Is it Baz? Please don’t tell me it’s Baz, anything but him, Ags!”

“No… Well, I don’t know. No. It’s- it’s not Baz. Look, Simon, I know you’re nice. And I know you care for me but… I want more than nice.” She says quietly, still staring at the grass.

“But- I could change! Is there something I’m not doing that I should do? Just tell me what I’m doing wrong! I mean come on, Ags! We’re perfect for each other!” I say, and I feel my magic starting to boil.

“That’s exactly why! I don’t want perfect, I don’t want to be the prize you get at the end of your quest, I don’t want prince charming! I want real, Simon. And deep down, I think you want that too.” She whispers the last words, finally meeting my eyes, now dangerously humid.

“But, what we have is real! I love you, Agatha!”

“I’m sorry, Si.” She says and turns around, her long blonde hair swaying around her waist as she walks.

 

BAZ

 

When I get back from feeding I find Snow hunched over Bunce’s forbidden laptop. He doesn’t have any headphones, so I can hear the voices clearly. _That sounds an awful lot like David Tennant._ I close the door after me, making sure he notices my presence. He jumps up, slamming the computer shut.

“Don’t worry, Snow, I’m not telling anyone. I owe you my life, remember?” I scoff.

“Right.” He says, seeming a bit surprised. His eyes are rimmed with red, his hair even messier than ever, and I could swear one of his cheeks looks wet.

“Snow. Have you been crying?” I ask. I don’t know where that came from.

“No.” He answers, but hesitates for just a second too long.

“It’s alright. I won’t comment on it. I don’t like talking to you, but you look like shit and since you’re the one who suggested that stupid truce, well, let’s make use of it.” I instantly regret my words as they leave my mouth.

“I broke up with Agatha.” He cracks, and the magic and hurt is spilling out of him. A smoky smell fills the room. The regret gains 150 kg and is now jumping up and down on my stomach.

“I’m sorry. That must suck.” I say, in lack of other words. _What should I do?_ I stand perfectly still, watching his every move, every twitch of a muscle, every blink.

“You’re not though, are you?” He mumbles.

“What makes you think that?” I ask.

“Well first of all, you hate me. Second of all, you clearly like Agatha.” He replies, eyes big and sad. They betray the pathetic little smile on his puffy face. “It’s alright.” He says softly. “You can have her.”

“I don’t want her, though.” I tell him. As he looks up at me in doubt, I sigh and walk up to the window to close it. The handle is icy, and I shudder as a gust of wind tickles my arm. “Didn’t I already tell you I was gay?”

“Oh. Yeah. Right. Forgot.” He blurted out, sounding relieved. _Oh, Simon. So forgetful._ He still hasn’t reopened the laptop, and the only source of light is the pale blue moonlight, casting odd shadows across his face. His moles look dark against the silvery glow of his skin.

“So, are you going to keep watching that, or?” I ask, swallowing hard. I lean back with my hands on the windowsill, resting my head against the cold glass.

“Yeah, I guess. Care to join? It’s Doctor Who.”

“Sure.”

 

SIMON

 

Baz sits down next to me on the bed and I flip Penny’s laptop open and click play.

“Which episode are you watching?” Baz asks. He’s so close. It feels weird, but familiar. I guess it’s from that night. _The night._

“I dunno, the one with the library. Season 4, I think.” I drawl.

“Yeah, Silence in the Library. Donna, then.”

“I mean, yeah, she’s the best. Martha is so boring.”

“What? Snow, what the actual fuck? For starters, Martha is probably the smartest companion the Doctor’s ever had. And hey, what about the time she made a reference to Harry Potter? And the time she used bloody CPR on the doctor? Oh, and she saved the world when even the Doctor couldn’t. Was that boring?”  I can’t help but stare. I didn’t know he could be so… _passionate. He loves Doctor Who as much as I do?_ From the sound of it, he loves it even more.

“I guess you have a point. But Donna is still better.” I argue. Baz frowns and smacks my arm with the back of his hand. I hit him on the belly, but not too hard. He _laughs._ ~~~~

“That was weak, it only tickled!” He chuckles.

“Oh, so you’re tickly, now, are you?” I tease, my hands lingering over his abdomen threateningly, fingers moving like they’re possessed.

“No-ho” He laughs as I start tickling him. He’s struggling to keep my hands away from him when he suddenly grabs me and turns me around and then he’s lying on top of me, and-

 

BAZ

 

Revenge is sweet. Simon is howling under me, shaking and twisting.

“Stop!” He tries to pronounce, laughing so hard he can barely breathe.

I don’t. But then I decide it’s enough, and I stop, just awkwardly hovering over him. He smiles up at me mischievously.

“So, are you going to get off me or what?” He snorts. I tickle him one last time in the stomach before I let him go. We sit up and I try to concentrate on the screen, but my eyes are drawn to Snow.

“I have no idea what’s happening.” He smiled. “Should we rewind it a bit?”

“If you want to, but I know all of the episodes by heart.” I reply.

“Well, well, well. Finally, something we have in common.” Snow says. “I mean, now I’m curious. If you like this, what other shows do you watch? Do you like Sherlock?”

“Oh please, I adore it!” I snickered.

“Really? Wow, I mean, who knew we had the same taste in TV shows?” He marveled, big blue eyes fixed at me. I just sneer at him. _Is this what it’s like to be friends with Snow?_ He’s smiling at me. A real one, all red lips and white teeth. It’s for me. _He’s smiling for me._

We watch the show in silence until our eyelids get heavy and Simon yawns, stretching his arms out. _So cute._

“Do you want to go to bed?” I ask, resting my hand on the computer, ready to close it.

“No, no, it’s fine. Let’s finish the episode first.” He mumbles, words drawly, barely audible.

“Okay.” I murmur.

 

SIMON

 

I’m tired. My back won’t support me anymore. Are there any pillows here? No? Baz will do.

He’s soft.

 

BAZ

 

Simon puts his head on my shoulder and _fuck._ What do I do? I wait a couple of minute and then- he snores. It’s small and adorable, and his hair is falling in his face and oh god I wish I could reach out and-

Snake’s sakes. I’m a dead man.

“Baz?” He sighs.

“Yeah?”

“I like this better than fighting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, that was it for this little fluffball of a chapter. Next one is going to be... eventful. *Evil laughter*  
> Have a nice day (or let's be real: night)!


	8. Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas is getting closer, and soon Simon and Baz will be alone at Watford. Penny is worried and Simon confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels so weird writing this in the middle of summer, but oh well. Here comes the next wave of angst hehehehehe  
> Enjoy!

BAZ

 

I wake up, but this time seeing Snow spread out on the bed next to me doesn’t frighten me. _Am I getting used to it? Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch getting used to sleeping next to Simon fucking Snow, what a thought._

He mumbles something unintelligible and shifts, facing me. His eyelashes flutter and reveal an intense blue.

“’Morning.” He murmurs.

“Good morning.” I mutter. “You seem awfully comfortable on your 95% of the bed.”

“Shut up.”

“We should probably stop doing this, by the way.” I say. He scoffs.

“Doing what?”

I just stare at him, raising an eyebrow.

“We’re enemies.” I remind him.

“On a truce! Besides, why do we even have to be enemies? And I know you usually get nightmares, but tonight you didn’t and neither did I.” He blurts out. He looks so tired, not just sleepy but really _tired_ , exhausted from life.

“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting because, no, Snow. There is no way I’ll sleep with your saggy arse just so you can feel a bit safer.” I stop, realizing what it sounds like. He giggles.

“That’s not what I meant.” I try, but he’s already laughing and _-blushing? I’m imagining things._

“We should probably get to breakfast, I’m starving.” He says after a long pause. I nod and stand up, Simon rolling over and sitting up to stretch his arms, yawning.

 

SIMON

 

They’re everywhere. In the corridors, the classroom, the dining hall… The mistletoes. Someone’s hell bent on getting kissed. They always appear a few days before Christmas. But never this many. I don’t know who puts them up, to be honest. I don’t think it’s the teachers. _They wouldn’t, would they?_ I guess it’s some bored 8th years.

I’m careful when I make my way to the dining hall, trying not to get stuck under one of those cursed things. Suddenly, I see something move on the wall. Must be a spider. I better catch it before someone pisses their pants. I don’t understand why people are so scared o-

Someone walks into me from behind. I fall forwards, but that same someone grabs my shirt and pulls me up.

“Baz?” I utter. “Are you going to let me go or what?”

“I can’t.” He says with a strangled voice.

“What? Why? Oh.” I start laughing. _Baz got stuck under a mistletoe._

“What are you laughing at?” He asks, sounding irritated.

“You’re stuck!” I guffaw. I try to step back but realize I can’t. Oh. Oh no.

“And finally, he realizes.” Baz says, seemingly bored and oddly calm. “One of your famous little explosions would be quite useful right about now.”

“I’m sorry but I can’t just make it happen. It’s not like I schedule them in my calendar.” I retort.

“Of course not, organisation would be too advanced for you, wouldn’t it?” He sighs.

“Well, we’re going to have to do it, so why don’t we just get it over with?” I propose.

“No.” He glares at me, eyes darker than usual.

“Come on, Baz, would you rather stand around here all day?”  


BAZ

 

No.

 

SIMON

 

“Look who’s all excited now. I’m sure there’s some other alternative.”

“Like what?” I ask. He’s starting to get on my nerves. I don’t like being this close to him. _Well…_ No. _NO._ _What happened tonight was nothing like that. He might as well have been a teddy bear._ We are not friends.

“Your friend Bunce would come in quite handy right now, for example.”

“Yeah, but she’s probably in the dining hall waiting for me.”

Baz sighs.

 

BAZ

 

“She always is.” Snow continues. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes all over the place. “I mean I love being the first for breakfast, but then again sometimes I sleep in and it’s not like she’ll come looking for me. What about Dev and Niall? And why is no one walking past? This is so weird honestly. Like why don’t the teachers just remove them? I don’t-”

His mouth goes on and on and then I grab his chin and shut him up. His lips are warm, so warm. He stiffens, but eventually closes his eyes.

 

SIMON

 

This is not what I imagined. Why does it feel _good?_ Baz’s lips are not like Agatha’s. They’re just as soft, but colder and more _Baz._

I don’t want to stop.

 

BAZ

 

If I don’t pull away, he’s going to know. But why isn’t he pulling away? Does he already know? Fuck, what if he already knows? I’m a dead man. But I already was. I might as well enjoy this while it lasts.

 

SIMON

 

I should pull away. But my lips are moving on their own.

 

BAZ

 

Fucking snakes and spiders and Merlin’s beard. I can’t. This is too much. I pull away slowly, avoiding his eyes and walking away as fast as I can, trying not to look like I’m rushing it.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

 

SIMON

 

Crowley. Why did I like that? Is that gay? Or is it just teenage hormones? I’m not gay, am I? And I’m certainly not gay for Baz.

I head for the dining hall, trying not to think about the cold tingly feeling left on my lips and the ghost of long, graceful fingers cupping my chin. I shiver.

Penny looks at me with worried eyes. “You’re late and you look like shit. What happened?”

I stare at the plate of scones in front of me, unable to answer.

“Si.”

“Yeah?” I finally manage to utter.

“What’s going on?” She asks, her voice lowered.

“Uhm, the mistletoes… I…Baz. Yeah.” I mutter.

“What?” She wonders, her voice urging, like she knew what was coming but needed confirmation before freaking out. “Did you get stuck? Or did he?”

I stay quiet, watching the realization hit her eyes. She sighs.

“Simon, you have to give me something here, or else I’m going to assume the worst.” Her words are soft but her gaze fierce, drilling holes into my head as if digging around for information.

“Well, yeah. The worst. That’s what happened.” I grunt, trying to avoid meeting her eyes.

“You and Baz got stuck under an enchanted mistletoe?” She guessed, incredulously.

“Yes. And keep your voice down for snake’s sake.” I retort, shooting her a nervous look.

“I can’t believe it.” She laughs. “And I can’t believe you’re still alive.” She states, in a more serious voice.

“I don’t know what to do. Penny, it was… I don’t know. We were almost friends and now I don’t…”

“I think it’s best if you borrow my cell phone while I’m in the US. Because I need to know everything. I can use Micah’s, so we can communicate.” She whispers.

“But, I’m not as brilliant as you are, what if the Mage finds it?” I ask, furrowing my brow.

“He won’t.” She assures.

“Alright.” I nod slowly. I guess it will be nice to be able to talk to her.

“And Simon?”

“Yeah?” I ask. Her eyes narrow, but not in a mean way, just a preoccupied one.

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

 

BAZ

 

I’m stupid. I should’ve pulled away earlier. Why didn’t I pull away earlier? Now all I can think of is soft, warm lips against mine. Usually football clears my head, but not even that would help me forget a kiss from Simon bloody Snow.

When practice is finally over, and I’m all showered and ready for bed, it only gets worse. I find it’s hard to fall asleep with his heavy breathing and rosy cheeks on the other side of the room after having gotten a taste of sleeping next to him. I can’t help but wish. Even though it’s stupid, even though there’s no point at all, something in me lights up and for once I have a _maybe._

Maybe the plan will work. Maybe I’ll get away in time. Before it’s too late.

 

SIMON

 

When I wake up I reach my arm out as if to grab something. It’s definitely not because I want to hug something, or someone. Preferably not someone cold, who could soothe my burning skin. Nope.

Baz moves in his sheets, his curls spread loose on his pillow. They look a lot better like that, when they’re not all smoothed out and slicked back behind his ears. His eyelashes flutter open, and a warm grey stares back at me. It’s not the icy marble of his sarcastic look, nor the slippery, dark, wet rock of his evil look. It’s soft and confused and calm, like the light waves of the sea on a sunny day. Suddenly I almost feel like I can feel his lips on mine again, all soft and warm like his eyes.

I need to talk to Penny.

I rush to the bathroom, grabbing some clothes and Penny’s phone. Crowley, I really hope she has landed.

**S: Hey, have u landed yet??**

**S: I really need 2 talk 2 u**

**S: Pls answer**

**S: Also r u ok, was the flight ok**

My thumbs shouldn’t be able to move that fast considering I’ve never owned a cell phone, but they do.

After 6 excruciatingly long minutes, I get an answer.

P: Simon, it’s 2 in the fucking morning and I’m jetlagged.

P: This better be important.

**S: I think I’m gay**

**S: Or like I dunno**

**S: It’s weird cuz I liked Agatha or still do I mean I love her**

P: That’s fine. And sexualities aren’t usually all black and white. It’s okay if you’re confused.

P: Wait, don’t tell me this has anything to do with kissing Baz.

I find myself unable to answer. I mean, it does have something to do with Baz. But not like _that_. _Definitely not like that._

A minute passes by and I’m staring at the screen. I don’t know what to tell her.

P: Si? Are you still there?

_Fuck it_

**S: It does.**

P: Have something to do with him?

**S: Yeah**

P: Merlin’s beard, I mean, Baz, out of all people?

P: I mean, I guess that makes sense, in a way.

**S: Pen, I’m scared**

**S: What if I’m in love with him?**

BAZ

 

“Basilton Grimm-Pitch?” Sputters the voice I hate the second most in the world. I turn to face the Mage with a raised eyebrow and a cold smile.

“Yes?” I ask.

“Someone is here to see you.” He states, gesturing at me to follow him. _Fiona? Oh god, I hope it’s Fiona._

It’s not. As we pass the weird mural in the tower, my stomach churns. I just know. I can feel it. It’s _him._

We enter the Mage’s office, and in the dim light of a single open window I see my father’s icy gaze. I know exactly why he’s here. Time’s out, and he’s not happy.

“Basilton.” He resonates in his unfriendly friendly voice, and I know I’m dead.

“Yes, father?” I mirror his smile, reminding myself to breathe.

“Pack your things, you’re coming home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry it takes me so long to update, I'll try to be faster now that the holidays have started. I'm still not entirely sure how long this fic will be, but I'm thinking 10-12 chapters maybe? I still have some stuff planned for our loves :)


	9. Something Must Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon begs the Mage for help, while trying to get Penny's advice. Baz is stuck at the manor, suffering the anger of his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok ok I'm sorryyyy I keep posting the chapters so late, and they're short and don't really make sense. *sweat drips* Oh well, I hope you can still enjoy this chapter. I made another playlist for this one :) (i know not everyone might like it but oh well it feels so Baz I just had to)
> 
> Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me - The Smiths  
> How Soon Is Now? - The Smiths  
> Something Must Break - Joy Division  
> Lazarus - David Bowie  
> I Know It's Over - The Smiths
> 
> i really love the smiths, kay?

**now before I start: _WARNING!!!!!!!!_  
**

**this chapter contains domestic abuse and some considerably graphic stuff!!**

BAZ

 

My father’s gaze is crawling under my skin, digging and clawing, scratching until I feel like I’m going to explode.

Everything is too still, too silent. I know what’s waiting. I know his mask, and I can see the shadows of the anger laying underneath.

Daphne stands next to him, his arm around her waist, her smile genuine, her eyes warm as she pushes a stray lock from my father’s alabaster hair.

“I know you’re not happy about this, Basilton, but your father believes you would benefit from some studying here at home. And I think he has something special planned for you.” She smiles. I can’t help but flinch. “We know you’re aspiring to join him at the Coven. Maybe this could be a first step.”

She doesn’t know. That only makes it worse. She doesn’t know what father wanted me to do. She doesn’t know I didn’t. She doesn’t know the consequences.

I’m thoroughly fucked.

My father takes a step towards me.

“I’m not very pleased with your grades, Basilton. I think you still need some time to recover from the unpleasantries earlier this year. If you’d care to follow me downstairs, I’ve prepared a working room for us. Every night, you’re to come down there for a lesson. This is only temporary, of course. But I’m sure you’ll learn plenty of things. I’ve even arranged an internship of three days at the end of the week. Daphne will be away with your siblings, so it’ll be just us chaps.” He pulls his “bonding time” face, evidently trying hard to look fatherly. It’s all so bloody fake, but she can’t see it.

I nod, a carefree smirk on my face.

“Sounds great.” I comment, voice devoid of emotion.

 

SIMON

 

**S: penny**

**S: pen**

**S: pENElope ANSWER rhight NOwf or I SWEAR TO GOD**

**S: help**

P: Are you alright? What happened?

**S: NO Im fuvcking not!**

P: You’re starting to worry me, are you okay?

**S: kind of but baz isnt!**

**S: please Penny he needs our help.**

P: Well that went from 0 to 100 real quick.

P: Your relationship, I mean.

**S: oh sod off its not like** **were** **dating**

**S: ANYWAYS**

**S: his father came to Watford and looked really angry but like in the baz way where he pretends like hes not angry**

**S: n he decided baz is going hom and baz looked really scared when he was packing his things and penny I NEED TO GET HIM THE FUCK OUT OF THERE**

P: Calm down Simon, let’s think this through.

P: What makes you think that going home would be such a horrible thing for him?

**S: YOU SHOULDA SEEN MR GRIMMS EUYES HE LOOKED POSITIVILY EVIL**

P: Well, except from that then?

**S: INTUITION**

**S: also baz has been having nightmares lately and like sometimes he talks or screams**

**S: n a couple of days ago he was mumbling about his father sayin no and dont hurt me**

**S: stuff like that**

P: Well, that does sound a little suspicious…

**S: well YEAH thats what I kept telling you!!!**

P: Look, Simon, I don’t like telling you this, but why don’t you just talk to the Mage?

**S: I guess I could yeh**

**S: just wanted to ask u first**

P: Well good luck

P: And love you J

**S: yeh yeh ily2**

BAZ

 

Fuck. _Simon. I fucking hate the tosser but I need his help. I need him._

My father’s furious. I’ve never ever seen him this angry. Which says a lot, knowing what an inconsiderate, constipated pig he is. As soon as the door is closed, something flashes across his eyes and the room starts filling up with thick, murky magic. The basement is quite gloomy, the lighting is faint and a dismal shade of green. I search around the room with my eyes, frantically looking for an escape route. But it doesn’t matter. I’m not getting away. He knows that just as well as I do.

When I finally dare meet his harsh gaze, it appears to me that he’s moved closer. We’re facing each other, my feet planted at the middle of the room, surrounded by large candlesticks. How the candles glow in that unpleasant emerald shade I don’t know, but I suppose it’s some spell.

Father sneers at me. I know what’s coming. Fuckfuckfuck.

Merlinandmorganaandfuckingsimonsnow. Help.

I feel myself drift away, moving out of my body. I feel empty.

 

SIMON

 

“Ah, Simon! To what do I owe the pleasure?” The Mage greets me with his ingenuine smile. His moustache twitches, and he reaches up to tweak it, mindlessly.

“Well, I was sort of- hoping you could… help me, sir.” I explain.

“Of course! Well, as long as its reasonable of course.” He chortles in his odd huh-huh manner.

“Uhm, so you know, Baz went home a couple of days ago but I’m pretty sure he didn’t want to. I mean, he’s not a kid anymore. If he wants to stay in school, he should be able to.” I say, my foot anxiously tapping the floor.

“Hm, that’s precisely why there’s not much we can do. Basilton is responsible of his own actions. He isn’t required to follow his parent’s requests, and so his compliance must be considered a choice.”

“But- No. No! That’s not- I…” I don’t know how to explain it to him. The voice in my head is chanting “ _bad, bad, bad_ ” and my stomach is churning in alarm, but how do I tell him that? The Mage doesn’t understand _feelings_ , he understands arguments, and words sharpened to knives. But I don’t know how to master my speech, my sentences are unclear and rarely grammatically correct.

“Use your words.” The Mage urges me, smiling empathetically. The universe must be enjoying the irony.

“I know he hates his father. Or at least, he’s scared of him.” Blimey, it feels wrong to tell him this, like I’m violating Baz’s privacy.  “Sometimes, he gets these nightmares, and he often sounds like he’s pleading them to stop. Almost every time, he addresses them as ‘father’.” I unwillingly continue. The Mage leans against his desk. It feels odd to see him almost sit down. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him sitting down.

“As suspicious as that may sound, I’m afraid there’s not much I can do, Simon. If I send my men, and your speculations turn out to be false, I’ll have the world against me. All the Old Families need are a small push, to completely turn on me, and drag the others with them.”

“But-”

“Simon, there’s no point in arguing. My hands are tied.” Silence falls over the room. I feel defeated, deflated, depleted of all strength. “Was that all?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, then do try to enjoy the rest of the afternoon. I’m off for the next couple of days, so Happy Christmas!”

My legs start walking on their own as I mutter a “Happy Christmas.” back. Shit. _What am I going to do?_

 

BAZ

 

I don’t even know where he gets these spells from. I thought we got rid of the worst stuff when the Mage’s men started searching through houses.

I’m on the floor, bent and crooked. I’ve given up trying to protect my limbs; there’s no use. Right now, it’s my ribcage. It’s growing and growing until it stretches my skin so much it bleeds. I can barely feel it, almost completely faded out. It’s like I’m watching myself from above.

I look pathetic. My father is looming over me, pure rage still thickening his magic, a vein popping on is forehead. Spell after spell, he’s tearing me apart. Suddenly he stops. Something changes in his eyes. I wonder if this is it, if he’s calmed down. For a few moments, everything is silent. The marble is not so cold any more against my back, hot, sticky blood now gluing me to the floor. _Fuck, I’m back._

I can’t think. Simon. Simon Snow is alive. If I’m going to die now, I want to die thinking of Si-

Suddenly there’s a twisted laugh. Gawking at my deformed, mutilated body, he sniggers. Then something snaps, and the laughing intensifies. He reminds me of a cartoon villain.

“Oh, son you should see yourself. You look ridiculous, almost pitiful. Well, chop chop. Time to get yourself cleaned up. Wouldn’t want anyone to misunderstand the situation, now would we.” He pauses. “I’ll trust that when I come back in the morning, you’ll be fully healed. You’re a Pitch, you can handle it.” We both know that’s physically impossible, but he doesn’t seem to care. The heels of his shoes echo with every step, and the door loudly screaks, then clicks as it locks.

I breathe out, and my body goes limp.

 

SIMON

 

**S: pen I need ur help again**

**S: pen**

**S: penny come onnn**

P: Merlin’s beard, Simon, will you ever let me sleep?

**S: no**

**S: also the mage said he wouldnt help cuz baz is big enough to make his own descisions n yada yada**

P: How unexpected.

**S: wot**

P: Sarcasm, Simon.

**S: oh**

**S: anyway yeh I dunno wha to do**

**S: we need to help him penny**

P: I don’t know… Maybe the mage is right. Baz is 19. He can take care of himself. 

**S: dint I tell u bout the nightmares**

P: Simon. You’re obsessed with him.

**S: am not!**

P: Look, maybe you’re right, but please don’t do anything rash. 

**S: I should go to his house**

P: Whatever it is you want to do, don’t do it alone. Knowing you, you’ll try to run to the manor to save him or something.

P: Crowley, I saw that just as I pressed send. And please don’t do that.

**S: y not**

P: Because you’ll get killed.

**S: no no its a big placve right? lots of hidung places**

**S: and baz will help me once ive rescued him**

P: This is the dumbest plan I’ve ever heard.

P: How are you even going to get inside?

**S: ill just prrtend Im his friend who wants to visit**

**S: were almost firends now anyway**

P: Simon, I’m begging you, please don’t do that.

**S: sry penny have to**

P: You really don’t.

**S: yeh I do cuz otherwise no one will hwlp him**

The phone keeps buzzing, but I ignore it. I’ve made my decision. I know what I need to do.

 

BAZ

 

It’s been days. Everyday I avoided the rest of the family, keeping to my room. Every night is the same. The three days with father felt like three years, but now Daphne and the kids are back to celebrate Christmas and fuck I just can’t do it. I don’t even know where I am, I can’t feel my body.

A warm hand is carefully shaking my shoulder.

“Oh dear merlin, Basilton.” A choked voice stutters. “Can you hear me?”

I grunt. My eyes try to adjust in the white buzzing light of Daphne’s wand.

“Thank Crowley, you’re awake. Basilton, we need to get you out of here. But I can’t, he’ll know. It was him, wasn’t it?” She takes in a sharp breath. “I didn’t know he ever went for you.” Her voice breaks, and a tear falls down on my shredded jumper. “Does he let you heal? Maybe I can heal you?”

I try to nod, and she nods with me. “Yes. Yes. Alright. We’ll do that, and tomorrow we’ll try to get you to Watford. I’ll talk to the Mage. I’m sure there’s something we can do. Okay. Yeah. That’s a plan.” She sounds as though she’s having trouble convincing herself, but it’s alright. It feels good not to be alone. Even if it’s Daphne.

The healing is quite painful, and she doesn’t finish it completely, to make it look like I tried to do it myself. It’s still a lot more than I could handle, but not impossible.

She forces me to drink some water, which burns in my throat, but feels oh so good.

“Thank you.” I barely manage to croak out.

 

SIMON

 

I’m coming for you, Baz. I’m coming for you.


	10. Poison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon goes to Baz's house, and he's SHOOK.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, darlings! I'm sosososossosoosososo sorry for leaving this for so long. I've had a lot do what with the school start (we start quite early where I live) and everything, but now I'm back, and the plan is to try and start updating every week (ish) again!  
> I'm not sure I'll make it every time but I'll try!

SIMON

 

As I fervently almost-sprint through a posh garden, half flying and dizzy with magic, I feel it more and more. The sense of “wrong” hanging in the air. My hand shakes as I carefully press the small, round button labeled “Grimm”.

A surprisingly friendly-looking woman opens the door. She smiles at me, curious, and slightly frightened. My magic can have that effect on people when I’m angry.

“Hi, is Baz here?” I ask.

She frowns. “Well, yes. Do you want me to call on him? I’m not sure he’s available at the moment…”

“Please, it’s very, very important. I need to see him now.”

Her eyes widen, and she nods, disappearing up an elegantly designed flight of stairs. I probably don’t wait longer than 5 minutes, but it feels like hours, and I can’t help bouncing up and down on the tips of my toes as I stare intently on the floor, trying to concentrate on something else than my magic trying to burst out of me and destroy all the expensive furniture.

When she finally comes down again, he’s there. And I want to take him into my arms so badly my body aches for it. He’s thinner than usual, bonier and paler, his skin the same matted grey as his eyes. I swallow painfully, ignoring the sore, heavy lump in my throat. I will not cry.

“Snow? What are you doing here?” His hollow eyes seem too tired for his usual scowl.

“Baz.” is all I manage to croak oat before my voice starts breaking.

He blinks at me. “Yes? That’s me.”

“I- Can we?” The words don’t want to come out.

He sighs, but it turns out more exhausted than insulting. “Can we- what, Snow?”

“Talk?” 

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?” He asks, squinting at me. I give him a look and he rolls his eyes, opening his mouth to speak when someone suddenly walks in.

“Oh, hello! Simon Snow, right?” A tall woman in posh white clothes approaches me, glancing over at Baz, seemingly looking for answers. Her eyes are kind albeit confused. “I’m Daphne, Baz’s stepmother. What owes us the pleasure?”

“Uhm, I…”

“We have a presentation in Politickal Science a couple of days after school starts again. We waited with it for a bit too long, but we should be able to finish it all today.” He smiles weakly at her.

“Oh.” She doesn’t sound convinced. “Well, good luck and tell me if you need anything.”

“Of course.” He answers and motions for me to follow him up the stairs.

 

BAZ

 

He came. I feel like I should pinch myself to make sure I’m not imagining things, but I don’t want to. If this is a dream I refuse to wake up.

Simon is wearing his usual shabby non-uniform attire: old sweatpants and a baggy, stained t-shirt. His face is different though. He looks full of sorrow and worry. Some cruel and selfish part of me hopes that it’s for me.

“In here.” I say, opening the door to my room and letting him step inside. His face when he enters is priceless. His eyes, round and large, fly all over the room in wonder. He finally rests his gaze on my (I admit) quite pompous Victorian four-poster.

“Wow.” He breathes. I snort, which pulls him back to reality and his face tenses. “Spoiled brat” his eyes say.

“Snow, why did you come here?” I ask, sighing as I drape myself over the 19th century Bordeaux divan. He looks a bit surprised.

“Uhm, well. I… I thought…. It’s just, you told me you were going to stay and then you just went so suddenly and you… You didn’t want your father to know about, you know, what happened. Before. Yeah. So, it seemed… Suspicious.” He pauses, looking unsure. I try to look as reassuring as possible, but my face muscles are so used to scowls I’m guessing it must look like some ridiculous grimace. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He finally admits.

“Well, I am.” I snap. He can’t do this to me. He can’t act like he cares so much when I know he’s just being the stupidly brave hero everyone expects him to be.

“No, you’re not.” He says.

I clear my throat for dramatic effect, standing up again. “Excuse me?” I take a step towards him, raising an eyebrow.

“Baz, you look like a ghost. I mean, you always kind of do, but now it’s- you don’t look healthy.” He explains. I narrow my eyes. “Sorry.” He sputters. “That was…a bad way of putting it.”

I don’t answer. He carefully steps closer, gaze sad and curious and full of worry.

“Baz. What happened to you?” He murmurs. “Was it you father?” I can’t help but flinch. “Did he do this – whatever it is – to you?” My lips are like glued together, the words refusing to form sentences in my head. “You can tell me, Baz. I only want to help.”

“Yes.” I finally manage to utter. He perks up.

“Yes what? Yes it was you father?”

I try to remember to breathe. “Yes.”

“Okay, okay. We’ll fix this. We need to get you out of here.”

“No, Snow. We need to get _you_ out of here. My father is going to try to make you stay. He’ll try to kill you or something I swear, he’s capable of it.” I urge him.

“No. If you’re not coming with me, I’m staying right here.”

I let out an annoyed sound. “Why must you always be so fucking unreasonably courageous?” I growl, hoping he won’t understand the vocabulary.

“Look, Baz. I won’t abandon you, okay?” he mumbles, sounding frustrated, running his hands through his hair as he steps even closer.

“Why?” I ask breathlessly.

“Because I… I don’t hate you. I care. About you.” He fumbles with his words.

“Oh, you stupid, stupid thing.” I can’t decide if I want to laugh or cry.

Suddenly, the loud dinner bell rings and I smirk at him.

“Dinner time.”

He perks up, and almost-sprints to the door.

“Looks like someone’s very enthusiastic all of a sudden.” I sneer.

He sticks his tongue out, but his eyes are just as wrinkled and sparkling.

We make our way down the stairs: him skipping every other step, me dawdling, letting a finger trail down the intricate railing.

“No, Snow, the other way.” I snicker when he turns towards the corridor with the ballroom and winter garden.

 

SIMON

 

When we enter the enormous dining hall all I can do is stare at the gigantic crystal chandelier glittering over our heads. A warm and sweet aroma hangs in the air.

“It smells heavenly, Daphne. What is today’s menu?” Baz asks, taking place at the table and motioning for me to join him.

“Well, for starters, gazpacho, but for the main course I asked Vera to order some of that delightful turkey we had a few weeks ago. The one that Mordelia liked so much.” Daphne answers, fixing curiously.

Baz looks from her to me. “Oh, yes. I hope you don’t mind him staying for dinner. He’ll leave after.”

“Oh. Well, you’re welcome to stay if you want, Simon. Watford is quite far.” She says, smiling at me. She’s so different from Baz, all light and airy with nervous smiles.

I look down at my plate. “Uhm…”

Then a chair screeches against the marble floor. I look up and meet cold, dark eyes.

Baz’s father clears his throat and turns towards his son. The way he moves is so stiff and unnatural, yet oddly charming. It’s terrifying.

“I didn’t know Mr. Snow would be joining us tonight.” He looks at me. “That’s your name isn’t it?”

“Uhm, yeah, but honestly you can call me Simon-” I start, and wince at how nervous I sound. I don't know why he's pretending not to know who I am. He merely let’s his lips stiffly turn slightly upward before focusing on Baz, just to let his gaze fall back on me again. My heart starts beating faster, my magic thickening. I can’t help thinking what he possibly could have done to Baz to make him look like that. It makes my blood boil.

“Will you be staying with us tonight, Simon?” He asks, motioning for his wife to pass him the wine.

“Well…That would be very nice of you. Walking to Watford would take a while I guess…” I mumble, accepting the bread platter one of Baz’s siblings slides down the table, obtaining a disapproving look from their mother.

“Walking? All the way to Watford? And the headmaster doesn’t mind you struggling to get home in the freezing night? I see this mighty Mage doesn’t even have time for his own-” 

“Malcolm!” Daphne exclaims, her eyes wide and with the same disapproving look. “Enough!" It hurts. Everything he said is true, and I hate him for it. I hate him and myself and all of it. 

“Well, I was only observing how I would understand if Simon would rather spend the rest of his entire Christmas break here.” I can’t help but gape at that thought. “I know our family doesn’t have the best relations with yours, but it is Christmas after all. Is anyone staying at Watford with you?” He bombards his words at me, not forcefully but like tiny spikes of ice piercing through my throat, rendering me gasping for air, choking on my own frozen blood. I shake the vivid picture for my head. I can’t let my magic out. Not here. Not now.

I soon realize everyone at the table is looking intently at me. Even Baz, who before now seemed to fully ignore me. “Uhm, not really. I mean, the Mage drops by from time to time of course.”

“Well, he is a busy man. Poor child, alone at Christmas. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay here? We won’t bite you know, political difference doesn’t exist at Christmas time.” He snickers, his eyes still stoic and still as rocks.

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind that, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble. I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Oh please! The house is big enough for one more person.” Daphne laughs. “Oh, Mordy, please do at least taste the salad. You need vegetables to grow strong, and you need to grow strong for football.” She insists, and it suddenly hits me how quiet the children have been so far. No one has said a word, even though the twins appear to be no older than 4 or 5.

“Don’t motivate her with that horrid sport. It’s not appropriate.” Malcolm sticks in.

“But Baz plays it too!” The girl in dark ponytails protests.

“I will not argue about this again.” Malcolm replies, not even casting a glance her way as he cuts through his meat swiftly.

The poor girl sticks her bottom lip out and shoves her plate a few centimetres away. Her mother, all of a sudden looking exhausted, pushes it back in front of her.

While observing the scene, I forget to eat, which quite frankly never happens to me. Especially not when the food is this good. It’s not until Baz prods me on the shoulder to ask me if I’m done that I realize that I’m still hungry. But I don’t even have the time to open my mouth before Malcolm interferes.

“Oh, Basilton, at least wait until the boy has finished. Would you like some more, Simon?” His face creeps me out.

“No, thank you. But thank you so much for the meal, and for letting me stay.” It feels weird thanking someone I hate so profoundly, yet barely know.

“Really, Simon, it’s nothing.” Daphne smiles.

Baz looks at me with big eyes and we stand up to leave the room.

 

BAZ

 

Well back in my room, I’m properly deceased. If that’s even possible. Maybe I already was. Simon looks like a curious mix between terrified and triumphant.

“You do know that was a terrible mistake?”

He sighs.“Yeah. But it’s worth it.”

“Worth what?” I ask.

“Worth… I don’t know? You?”

“That’s ridiculous. I appreciate it, but I don’t need your fucking help, Simon.” I hiss.  He opens his mouth only to close it again, as if hesitating on his reply.

Finally, he closes his eyes and softly speaks. “It’s not about you needing my help, it’s about me wanting to give it to you, moron. Because that’s what friends do.”

I don’t know how to answer to that. He’s being really stubborn about this friend thing, and I still have no idea how to react. But I don’t have to, because Mordelia bursts in to my room, platter in her hands, tea spilling everywhere as she clumsily places it on my desk.

“Mordy! My books! And how many times do I have to tell you to knock?” I scold.

She snorts. “You should be happy. I’m about to save your friend. I saw father putting something weird in the tea. So, don’t drink it.”

I scowl at her. “Great, so you’re saying there’s poison all over my books?”

“Thank you, Mordelia!” She sing-songs ironically. Sometimes it’s funny how much she resembles me.

“Thanks.” Snow finally utters.

“See? That’s a real gentleman! Oh, also, Baz. Father wants to speak to you.”

“How wonderful. As if this night couldn’t get any better.” I turn the sarcasm to max before grabbing the tea mugs and pouring them into my trashcan, watching how the crumpled-up papers turn into mush, blend with each other into a brown, disgusting mess.

“What the hell are you doing?” Snow asks incredulously.

“Just disrespecting the poison-tea, as one should.”

He shakes his head and I leave the room, stopping to open the door for Mordy on the way and raising an eyebrow until she unwillingly struts out.

“And Snow isn’t my friend.” I call at her back while she saunters down the hallway. Then, turning back towards the inside of my room, I frown at the boy sitting on the floor. “Don’t move until I come back.”

He nods, his curls bouncing. I lumber down to my father’s office on the second floor.

When I finally stand if front of the intricate oak door, my hands are shaking, which never happens to me. _I’m a Pitch, damn it._

“Good evening Basilton.” He says, without turning around. He’s sitting in his chair, back against the desk, looking up at the portrait of some old relative hanging on the wall.

“Good evening, father.”

“I’ve been thinking about this… unexpected visit.” He starts. _Fuck._ “I think it might not be such a bad idea for him to stay here a while.” His voice sounds frighteningly calm for someone who’s about to plan something so very, very bad.

“Father-” I panic.

“Let me finish. I just think maybe a friendship might not be as horrible as you think. It might prove beneficial to us.”

“What?”

He turns around, fixing me with his dead eyes. “If Davy Mage is treating his little protégé this poorly, maybe turning them against each other will turn out rather easy. Convenient, don’t you think, Basil?”

I hate it when he calls me that. “Yes, sir.”

“You’ll find I helped you a bit along the way. Just a friendly potion to sweeten his tea.” He grins, flashing some shiny, white teeth. I nod, putting on my “pleasing” smile.

“Good. Then I hope you understand what you must do.” He hums and turns back around to the painting.

“Of course.”

“Good night, then, Basilton.”

I hate it when he calls me anything. “Good night, father.”

 

SIMON

 

As soon as Baz leaves, I exhale. I can’t believe this family. I have so many questions. Why are they all so stiff? And quiet? What’s up with the children? And I don’t understand how they keep everything so clean. How was Baz’s sister so chill about telling us there was _poison_ in my tea? Is that a fucking _regular occurrence_ or what? And how come no one is bothering to do something about their obviously psychopathic father?

I don’t know much about families, but I know this isn’t normal. Penny’s family isn’t anything like this one, nor is Agatha’s.

My magic starts working itself up again, growing thicker and slimier until my breath is heavy, my sweaty palms frantically running through my hair and over my sweatpants.

“Snow.”

Thank god, he’s back. I stand up.

“You called me Simon before.” I don’t know where it comes from, but it’s true. I wanted to point it out earlier, before he had to leave.

“No, I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“Doesn’t matter.” He sighs, looking somewhat relieved. “He was in a good mood tonight. Oh, and apparently there was no poison.” He adds.

“What was it then?”

“Nothing.” He snaps. What the fuck?

“Baz, just tell me.”

“What do you mean?” He drawls, walking over to the window.

“Why would your sister lie about that?”

He frowns, shutting the window and drawing the beautiful silk curtains. “Look, Simon, I would rather not talk about that right now.”

“There you did it again!” I point out, triumphantly. The questions are still nagging at the back of my head, but I can tell there's no arguing with him, so I decide to let them sit until tomorrow.

“What?”

I snicker. “You called me Simon.” He doesn’t answer. “You should. You know. If we’re doing this entire friends thing.”

“Are we?” His voice is wavering a bit, like the instability and anxiety is leaking through after years of skillful hiding.

“Definitely.” I grin. But then, something shifts in him and his expression turns hard and defensive.

“Well, good luck with that, Chosen One. I’m sure your dear daddy will be delighted.” I feel my eyes watering.

“Why do you always do this?” I exclaim. His face is just as cold, but hinting at surprise, his mouth falls open and he furrows his brow. “Every time I think I can finally relax, that you don’t hate me anymore, it’s like you do a 180 and walk all over me again.” I close my eyes, rubbing at my eyes to conceal the tears. A minute passes by in silence, and I’m so angry I could hit him, but all my force seems to have disappeared.

“Simon.” Baz’s voice is soft now, and he’s closer, breathing light puffs of air right in front of me. “Do you _ever_ listen to _anything_ I say?” He asks, and his voice is thick, and I think he might be crying too. “I already told you; I never hated you, Simon Snow.”

I look up and meet wet eyes and a shaky lip. A stray lock clinging to his cheek, a scratch right above his left eye-brow. He’s beautiful.

“We should get ready for bed.” He interrupts my thought with a sad smile.

“Yeah.” I nod with a nervous giggle, not sure why I’m laughing. He joins in, chuckling softly. Then he turns away from me and I feel like I just lost something important.

“So where do you want to sleep?”

“The couch maybe?” I eye his fancy weird-looking sofa-chair. It does look moderately comfortable.

“Don’t be ridiculous. We have guestrooms. Or if you’d prefer, take my bed, and I’ll take the divan.”

“Uhm, actually if you don’t mind… I…” I don’t want to finish the sentence, dreading his response, because I know I won’t sleep tonight if I don’t. I let out another nervous laugh. “I know this is really weird, but like, it’s not like it’s the first time and uhm… I just, don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“Are you asking me to sleep in the same bed as you?” He snickers.

“No… I mean-” I feel stupid.

“Sure.”

“What?”

“Sure, I’ll let you sleep in my bed. But no fucking cuddling, do you understand?”

I nod, smiling at him, knowing he’s about to be a hypocrite. Sleepy Baz loves cuddling.

I get to borrow a set of pajamas (the pants are a bit too long, so I need to roll them up, but otherwise it fits pretty decently) and a toothbrush. Baz takes less than usual locked up in the bathroom and I can’t help but wonder if he normally stays longer on purpose, to annoy me.

As soon as we’re all clean and minty-breathed, we climb onto the ginormous bed and settle under the covers.

“Snow.”

“ _Simon._ ” I correct him.

“Snow.” He tries again, making the letters roll off his tongue in mockery.

“Tyrannus.” I can practically feel him cringe on the other side of the bed.

“Fine.” He mutters. “Simon.”

“Yes, Baz?”

“Well now forgot what I was going to say, you little fucker.” He mumbles, turning away from me.

I giggle. “Go to sleep, arsehole.” A few minutes pass by and I feel my eyelids growing heavy. Suddenly Baz breaks the silence with a faint whisper.

“Good night, Simon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, that's it, only two chapters left :) I'm a bit sad that it's ending but at the same time, this is the first fic I've ever written (or more precisely started writing since I have finished another before this one - whoop whoop for multitasking). Anyway, please leave kudos and a comment if you liked it <3 they make me very happy!


	11. Christmas Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon and Baz both finally summon the courage to talk about two very different things to two very different people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I've dreaded this chapter, which is probably partly why it took me so freaking long to write it, but it's finally here! I'm so sorry I haven't been updating but I promised myself I wouldn't give up on this work, and I figured a couple of months of waiting would be better than nothing at all, or a short, crappy chapter. I actually ended up splitting in two because I realized it would be way longer than planned. Since I didn't want a 10 000 word chapter (in contrast to the others that are roughly 3000, this work is going to be 13 chapters instead of the originally planned 12)   
> Oh also, I made a playlist again :)   
> Here's a link to my spotify list: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2zRhK9Kf0tB6BGNg2YfJ0w   
> but if you don't have an account here ya go:
> 
> Uncertain smile - The The  
> Invisible Sun - The Police  
> It's my life - Talk Talk  
> Teenage Wildlife - David Bowie  
> I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas (Hippo the Hero) - Gayla Peevey
> 
> Alright, with all that said: I hope you enjoy!

SIMON

We wake up in a tangle of limbs, just like I knew we would. It feels like this is the first real night of sleep I’ve gotten in weeks. I sigh, nuzzling my nose into his chest. I know he won’t be waking up for a good while, so I might as well start thinking through what I need to tell him. We have so much to talk about, and to be completely honest I just want him out of here. I want to solve this mess before telling him.

Oh, Baz, that absolutely mesmerizing bastard. I watch his eyelids slightly twitch, dark eyelashes casting a shadow in the crease underneath. I’m entranced, my eyes stuck following the shape of his chin, his protruding, majestic Egyptian nose.

I try to clear my head to make some space for words. I need to come up with some really convincing arguments. I know he’s afraid to leave, but he’s got to. I’ll get him out of here whether he wants to or not. I’ll knock him out and carry him to Watford myself if I must.

Suddenly he stirs, mumbling about something I can’t quite make out. Then with a sharp intake of breath his eyes fly open. I’m afraid to let him know I’m awake, but I realize it’s too late when he lifts his head slightly and locks his gaze on me. His pupils are enormous, eyes almost entirely black.

“Baz, you alright?”

“Yes.” He doesn’t sound convincing to me, but I choose not to press it. “Are you going to move?”

“What?” And then I remember the softness underneath my ear is his chest. “Oh.” I change position and he sits up, a faint blush painting his cheekbones. “Uhm, we need to talk.”

He sighs. “Again?”

“Oh shut up. We never got-”

“I know.” He rolls his eyes before turning his back to me, swinging his legs down unto the floor, stretching his arms graciously. I watch helplessly as the muscles in his back swiftly flex and soften up again, moving over his shoulder blades. “So?”

“Hm?”

“What were you going to say?”

I clear my throat. “You need to come back to Watford.”

“It’s Christmas Eve.”

“It is?” I ask, feeling stupid.

“Yes.”

“Oh.” I swallow. “Well, you still have to.”

“And why should I listen to you?”

“Baz,” I sit up and shuffle closer to him. “turn around and look at me.”

He doesn’t. I shuffle the last decimeters, grabbing his shoulders awkwardly, causing him to twitch.

“You’re a moron, do you know that? And a masochistic one at that.”

“I’m impressed, I didn’t know you knew that word.” He snorts, but it doesn’t sting. His voice is warm and raspy and not at all like the cold, insufferable and pretentious tone I’ve gotten used to.

“Sod off.” I mutter. “Look, you’re clearly in danger here. We can stay today if you want but tonight, we’re leaving.”

“You do realize Watford is the first place my father will look for me?”

“Well he can’t do anything there, can he?”

“He can demand I come home.” The boy in front of me murmurs, shivering as I start massaging his shoulders.

“Baz, you’re eighteen, he can’t do shit.”

“Mhmm…”

“Is that a yes?”

“No, you’re just-”  He trails off as I press my thumbs into his neck, making little circles. “Ahh…”

I feel my cheeks heating up at the suggestive sound. “Well, I’m going to get you back whether you want to or not.”

“Why do you care?” He whispers.

“I don’t know.” I lie. “But please just come with me. I’d rather not have to explain to everyone why I’m carrying an unconscious Baz.”

He laughs, and I feel him relax under my touch. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would!” I want to kiss his neck right where it’s gone slightly pink from my touch.

“Nitwit.”

“Bastard.”

“Imbecile.”

“Nincompoop”

He laughs again, this time throwing his head back so that his hair brushes over my arms. I can’t suppress a shudder.

“Really? Nincompoop?” He’s still sniggering. Then he turns around, and I have to let go of his shoulders.

“Baz, I…” I start. But his eyebrow is cocked up and it’s extremely distracting because it’s almost  _ flirtatious _ and even though that should make me happy, I somehow feel even more nervous.

“You?”

BAZ

Oh god. Is he going to-?

No, surely not.

SIMON

And then I kiss him.

As my lips brush over his, he jerks and I almost panic, but then he’s kissing back and it’s better than anything I could ever have imagined. His hands are in my hair, and my own hands find their own way around his back, pulling him closer to me. And for once, the feeling of wanting to explode is not caused by my magic. Then his lips leave mine and travel down to my collarbone, his fingers pulling at my collar, and I forget. I forget where I am and what I’m doing. The only thing that matters is that Baz is here, with me, and  _ I’ve finally got him.  _ I don’t know what this means but I force the thoughts away and just  _ feel. _

BAZ

I’ve thought a lot about what Simon probably tastes like, and finally I know. He tastes like an exquisite mix between the smoky green of his magic, boy sweat and freshly baked bread.

But just as I stop panicking and allow myself to indulge in his touch, his scent, in everything I’ve ever dreamt of, a loud rumble echoes from Simon’s stomach, and I can’t suppress a laugh. It starts getting in the way of kissing, and I find myself laughing even harder, gasping for air as Simon groans against my lips, pinching my arm in an ineffective try to get me to stop. I finally pull away from him, breathing in deep.

“Breakfast?” I suggest after having caught my breath. He nods, blushing, and it makes me regret saying it, wishing we could stay in bed all day.

We slowly shuffle down the stairs, still in pajamas, and I feel invincible, and slightly insane, which I guess looks like quite a ridiculous reaction to walking to breakfast in pajamas, but in this house, it’s perfectly reasonable. Hopefully, my father has already left for his Sunday brunch at the country club; if he knew, he would go bonkers.

Roaming into the kitchen, he heads straight for the fridge, checking my eyes for permission before pulling the handle. I roll my eyes, but give him a sharp nod and then a smile when he flings it open all-too enthusiastically and proceeds with hitting himself right above the eyebrow. I chuckle, pulling out a chair for him. He grabs the milk, treading over and plopping down next to me at the large white table, opening the milk package.

“No.” I say as I anticipate his next, absolutely horrifying move.

“Why not? You have two other packages, and Daphne told me to feel at home, that I can eat and drink whatever I want.”

“I don’t care if you drink milk, but not like that, you absolute hedonistic buffoon.”

The bastard goes on to lock eyes with me as he slowly raises the milk carton to his mouth, and takes a large sip, much to his own dismay as he misses his lip with a centimeter. The milk trickles down his chin onto his shirt, but he simply laughs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. It’s adorable, to be honest, but I can’t have him know that.

Instead I frown in disgust. “Pig.” I glance over at the clock on the wall. 07:12. Merlin, that’s early, I was expecting it to be well past eleven. Frankly, I don’t know how I’m not dead, but I’m grateful as it means most of the family is probably still fast asleep, including my father, who usually rises at 8.

“Lots of names being thrown around to the person you… ”He blushes.

“I…?”

“Nothing.”

I let out a short snicker. “Yes, I snogged you, but we all have our strange tendencies, don’t we?” It sounds weird saying it out loud, unreal, but it makes him blush harder.  _ Worth it. _

“Baz?”

“Yes?”

“I know I keep telling you what to do, and I know how annoyin’ that is, but please just listen to me, okay?

“Alright.”

Simon clears his throat, burying his face in his palms for just a second before he starts speaking. “Uhm, so… I… I know it’s hard, but you really need to stand up to your father. I’ll be right by your side, I’ll fight for you if it comes to that, but you’re not safe here and-”

“Wait, Simon, what are you saying?”

“I… I care for you. I don’t want you to stay here because I know your father is hurting you, and because…” He bites his lip. “I mean, I told you before didn’t I?”

“Yes- but… ‘fight for me’, Simon? I’m not some damsel in distress, I hope you understand that. I’m very capable of taking care of myself.”

“I know, Baz, I know. I know you’re strong, that’s not what I’m afraid of.”

“Then what are you afraid of.?” I try to sound fierce, and firm, but it comes out as barely a whisper, and his eyes meet mine, full of worry and something warm.

“I’m scared that you want to hurt yourself just as much as he wants to hurt you.” His voice almost breaks at the end, and his head dips, his curls falling in his face to hide his eyes. I can’t bring myself to answer. I wouldn’t know what to say anyway. My throat feels as though it was full of heavy stones, all alive and growing, trying to get out of the narrow passage restricting them. I suffocate in silence, forcing the tears down.

“Baz.” He reaches for my hand, and I can’t help but take it. I don’t want to, but I’m so fucking weak. I can feel his gaze burning on my skin, searching for mine, but I can’t trust myself to look at him without crying, so instead divert my eyes down at the table furiously. “Baz.”

Fingers graze over my knuckles, and he leads my hand upwards, holds it to his face, carefully guides it over soft, wet cheeks. “Baz.” He tries again, his voice almost completely gone. “Please.”

This time I look up at him, and although I barely see anything through the thick teardrops, I see his streaked face, his eyelashes thick and dark and clinging to each other. 

“Simon.” I murmur.

“Please come back to Watford with me.”

“Okay.” I whisper even though I know it won’t be. He smiles at me, a sad but grateful look written on his face.

“Thank you.”

Suddenly it’s like I can hear the blood rushing through my veins, something beeping in my ear. I feel like I’m overheating, my head full of too much noise, too much light, the clock ticking loudly inside my head, the eggshell of the walls suddenly offensive. Then I mutter something about the toilet before rushing upstairs.

I lock myself in my en suite bathroom, and slip down on the floor, frantically sobbing. I don’t know what I’m doing, and everything’s just too loud, too bright, too heavy, too fast. I try to breathe but the sound of it is too much so I hold it in until I get dizzy.

“Baz?” I hear again, soft but insistent. “Baz?” Simon knocks at the door.

The sound of his voice calms me, but I can’t open the door just yet. The thought of his beautiful, square face full of tears and anguish and woe makes the panic rise within me once more.

“Baz, I’m coming in.”

I don’t even have time to wonder how he plans on unlocking the door, which I’ve very skillfully spelled shut, before his arms are around me and he’s soft but strong and I melt into his embrace as he weeps into my neck. We stay like that for I-don’t-know how long, until our tears have dried, and our legs hurt.

He kisses my cheek and I nuzzle his hair, breathing him in. I want to stay, but I know we have to go.

“I think I’m ready now.” I say. My voice comes out a bit throatier than usual.

He nods. “I’ll come with you.”

SIMON

My stomach has never moved around so much in my life. It’s gargling, making me feel like I’m going to throw up. But Baz is putting on a brave face, and I won’t let him do this alone.

We walk down the stairs, me thumping heavily, Baz soundlessly striding in restored gracefulness. 

The door is enormous, a reddish colour, heavy with the smell of laque. Baz doesn’t knock. He spells it open, just like he did that day in the dining hall. His strides are long, the clicks of his shoes on the polished floor an echoing menace.  _ When did he change his outfit?  _

I follow him awkwardly, taking a step forward, but he throws a hand out calmly, motioning for me to stay back. 

“Father.” 

The man in question, a stony extension of the leather throne, sits behind a dark desk. A paper is in his hand and he drops it onto the clean surface. 

“Basilton.” Eyes aloof, eyebrows lazy and low, he speaks like it’s a difficult, tiring task. 

Baz clears his throat. “I’m gay. Homosexual. Queer. Whatever you want to call it.” His mouth seems to only barely move, his tongue a cold, ruthless and effective warrior. 

Mr Pitch merely glares at him. His muscles seem frozen even in his relaxed position. 

Baz looks just as calm on the outside, but there’s deviance in his eyes, a fire, a revolution. “And I’m not going to hurt Simon. I also am not going to force him to take sides.” 

His father, still blank and indifferent, takes his glasses off and places them in front of him. 

“Basilton, calm down. You’re making a fool out of yourself. Simon, I assure you, whatever ideas he has got, they derived entirely from his own imagination.” 

“Oh cut the bullshit, father. This is not about you. I’m taking my life back. I don’t care if you throw me out. I’ll go live with Fiona. I’m better than this. I’m not going to be your little puppet, I’m not interested in waging war. I believe we have more important problems to deal with. There’s the Humdrum, global warming, corruption. World hunger, for fuck’s sake. How is defeating the Mage your first priority? What’s the use of magic anyway if we’re only going to turn it against each-other?” Baz seems to have cooled down, but there’s still a spark in his eyes, his back is still straight. I feel a chill run down my spine. I feel invisible: half like furniture, half like I shouldn’t be here.

“Do as you like.” Mr Grimm says. His face is still the same. I don’t understand how someone can keep the same facial expression for so long. It’s got to be either botox or psychopathy. “At least spend Christmas dinner with us, will wou? Daphne would be so disappointed.” Finally the furrows of his face change shape like hardened clay, cold and clumpy and difficult to mold. His lips turn up into a stiff smile. 

For a second, Baz looks like he’s going to scream, but then he composes himself. 

“Of course. But we’ll be going back to Watford after that.” 

Mr Grimm nods. Baz turns around and leaves. 

 

BAZ

 

It feels surreal, all of it. My legs are moving on their own accord, my throat full of suffocating anger. How dare he be so careless? I know it’s only because of Simon, but I want it to be because of me. Maybe he genuinely doesn’t care. I don’t understand him. He’s known for a long time that I’m gay. I haven’t made much effort to hide it. I even brought a bloke home once. But we’ve never talked about it. And he still kept asking about girlfriends, talking about marriage and suitable matches. I always thought he would be furious if I actually told him, made it real. And maybe he is. But whatever he’s feeling, he seems to understand that it won’t make a difference. Wise man. It wouldn’t. I don’t care anymore. 

Simon looks worried, a bit stunned. He walks wearily, looking at me every three seconds. It’s a bit unnerving, but I’m too tired to do anything about it. I just want to go back to my room and never talk to anyone ever again. 

Once we’re back on the bed, sitting awkwardly beside each other, Simon says the absolute last thing I want him to say. 

“I think we should talk too. You know, about what happened this morning.” 

I sigh. “Snow, please.”

“I’m sorry, I know you’re probably really exhausted after  _ that _ , and you don’t have to answer but I just… I was going to tell you later, but I don’t think I can wait anymore.”

I frown. I don’t know if any good can come out of this. It doesn’t sound like something one would say before saying something good. Nevertheless, my father flies out of my head, and I look into Simon’s eyes in fear and expectation. 

 

“Baz, I…” He trails off, his hands ruffling his hair, eyes darting all over the place. I tilt my head to catch his gaze and he  _ blushes?  _ I need to stop being surprised, he’s been turning red often lately. Maybe he just caught a cold. Or maybe he’s always been like that and I never noticed. I don’t want to think about the other maybe. 

“Look, maybe… I don’t know how to say this- Maybe this is really dumb and I should just shut my mouth, but I… I think there’s a slight possibility that you might not- I dunno, be angry, maybe even-” His voice goes on and off, stretches and cuts, like a broken record. “Baz I care about you. Like, a lot. Like, more than you think I do.” 

I want to ask him what he means, why he’s telling me. I want to ask him if it’s all just a grand cruel joke, with cameras and fake laughs from a hired studio audience. I want to ask him if he loves me. 

“Baz?” 

I just stare at him. He’s closer than I realized. Our hands are almost touching, mine in front of my bended knee, his behind his back, supporting his relaxed body. But not anymore. He’s all stiffened up, all corners and worried angles. 

“Baz?” He tries again, but I can’t think of anything to say. Why does he always do this to me. I don’t know what he wants me to say. Fuck, I don’t even know what I want to say.

 

He clears his throat, leans forward a bit, straightens his posture. “Look, I-” 

 

Something comes over me, an impulse. A stupid, stupid  _ thing _ that takes control over me and I lean closer to him, too fast, way too fast and I grab his neck and pulls him into me. His curls blend with my locks and his lips meet mine. I didn’t mean to. 

 

SIMON

 

When Baz kisses me I almost jump. Then as his mouth melts on mine, I think. I think of how thankful I am. Thankful to him for understanding even though I never found the right words. Thankful to the universe for him, for everything that ever led to this moment. But then he nibbles at my lips, licks into my mouth and snakes his hand down to my hip and it gets impossible to think anything at all. 

 

But eventually he breaks away. 

“Simon.”

“Finally.” 

“Finally what?”

 

BAZ 

 

“Finally you call me Simon. And finally  _ that. _ ” He mumbles, faint rosy blotches spreading over his cheeks again. 

I smile. “How long?” 

“What?”

“You said finally.” 

He shrugs. “Oh. I dunno. I didn’t realize until recently but…” 

“But?” 

The blush on his cheeks spreads to his neck and ears. “I guess I’ve liked you for a long time. I don’t know how long exactly but… yeah.”

“Simon Snow, you ignorant, adorable slut.” 

“That’s an odd-”

I cut him off with a kiss. I’ll force him to watch The Office later tonight. Right now, we’re occupied.

 

SIMON

 

“This show is so weird. Why in jelly? I’m so confused.” I ask, squinting at the screen.

Baz chuckles, turning his head to look at me. “You’ll grow to love it.” 

“And what if I don’t?” 

“There are 9 seasons, you’ll have plenty of time.”

I groan. He laughs again, his eyes lighter than usual, and I notice his eyelashes, long, thick and dark against the paleness of his eyelids. 

We’re on Baz’s enormous bed, wrapped up in blankets and each other, cups of hot chocolate. The TV is on, we’re watching the Office. Baz finds it hilarious, I find it weird. Although I can’t deny there’s a creative brilliance in the bizarre characters.

“Americans...” I whisper as the man-child with the unfortunate hair says something about bears. Baz chuckles, and leans his head against my shoulder. His locks tickle my neck. I want to kiss him. So I do. It works for a moment, his hands find my face and he melts into me, but then he seems to wake up and he mildly pushes me away. 

“Hey, you’re missing the good part.”

“What exactly is the good part and when’s it over?” I ask, attempting to raise an eyebrow. 

He smiles at me mischievously. “All of it. Never.”

 

BAZ 

 

Something starts ringing. It sounds like a phone, but that’s not my ringtone. Besides, I rarely use my phone. I don’t have a lot of Normal friends. 

“Oh my god! Must be Penny!” Simon startles and digs into his pocket, pulling out a deep purple monstrosity. It’s not very modern, and the vibrations are barely noticeable. 

“Hello?” Simon answers the mobile. I can hear a muffled voice from the speakers.  _ Sorry _ , Snow mouths in my direction before standing up and walking across the room for slightly more privacy. 

I shake my head.  _ Those two, honestly.  _ It can’t be  Snow’s  Simon’s (the Mage would never allow it), so I’m assuming it’s Bunce’s piece of garbage. I know she’s in America. Must cost her a fortune. I wonder why she even has a mobile phone. Can’t be worth it, we’re not allowed to use them on school grounds. Interferes with the protection spells. That’s horseshit. The charms here are perfectly fine, and my father even had WiFi set up.

I wonder if he’ll tell her about us. I hope he doesn’t. I hope he does. 

 

SIMON

 

As soon as she hears my voice, Penny bursts in a series of slightly ridiculous apologies. “I’m so, so sorry I haven’t been able to call earlier, I co-”

“No-no-no it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” 

“So what have you been up to?” She asks, seeming to have settled a bit. 

I hesitate. “Uhm..”

“No.” She groans.

“I’m sorry, but I had to!” I try in defence. It’s far from enough for her. Across the room, spread out on the bed in a falsely relaxed position, Baz sits, same expression as ever: bored-and-definitely-not-eavesdropping. He seems a bit frozen now though.

“Are you okay? How did you even get there? Simon, we talked about this! You promised! I mean you could’ve at least-”

“No I didn’t! Not technically…” It’s quite moronic of me; resistance with Penny always is. 

“Simon. You could’ve been seriously hurt.”

“But I’m not! I’m okay.” 

“Okay, so what about what we talked about last time? Has it, er, progressed?” 

“You mean?” I glance over at Baz, innocently sipping his tea. Suddenly I swallow all wrong and start coughing. 

“Si?” Penny laughs. “You alright there?” 

Baz starts laughing as well, standing up and coming over to pat my back. I nod at him for thanks and clear my throat one final time. 

“As a matter of fact, kind of? But I dunno if I’m supposed to talk about it?” I catch Baz’s gaze, still right next to me, his hand resting on my shoulder. He looks back at me quizzically. I sigh and try my best at mouthing the words.  _ Can I tell her? _

Penny grunts impatiently. “Simon, what are you doing? You’re making weird noises.” 

Baz looks at me for a second, and right then, I can’t read him. Not that I usually can, but something comes over him and then he nods, unsure at first but then, slowly, a smile creeps over his face and he sneaks a hand around my waist, leaning onto my shoulder. Crowley. I consider hanging up on Penny to kiss him, but I don’t. 

“Simon?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Yeah what?” 

“Yeah, it progressed. I told him.” 

“And?” 

“Uhm, he...we...he didn’t reject me. He called me an ignorant slut but he didn’t- There’s a bunch of other-” 

“Merlin and Morgana, Simon, you two are the fucking strangest people I know. I’m happy for you though. So, are you like a thing now, or?” 

“Uhh..” 

“Ah, haven’t had _ the talk  _ yet, have you?”

I stay silent. 

“Well, off you pop, ask him for snake’s sake! And report back to me, okay? Love you!” 

“Love you...” I say, confused. Before hanging up, something rustles and she chuckles to herself: “ _ I knew it! I knew he was gay!”  _

Baz looks at me, biting his lips. We wait for the beep of the phone, and then burst out laughing. He buries his face in my neck, shaking with laughter. I try to hold him, but the more I feel him shake, the more I laugh, and we end falling on to the bed, still twisting and howling. After it finally calms down, I turn to look at him. He’s laying on his side with his face turned towards me, his hair ruffled, his black curls a beautiful, harsh contrast against the white sheets. 

“Baz?” I whisper.

“Yeah?” 

His eyes are so grey, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so alive. “I think I…” 

He kisses me. Again. The bastard. I move my lips against his compliantly for a few seconds, but then I untangle his hand from my hair, and sit up to an uncomfortable but kiss-safe position. He whines. I look at him meaningfully, and he sighs.

“I’m sorry, you were saying?”

“I think we should have  _ the talk _ .” I say. “Like Penny said.” 

“Haven’t we already?” 

“No. At least I don’t think so.” 

He chuckles. “Okay, I guess.” 

“So?” I ask.

“You suggested it, you go first.” 

“But I-” I start. But I realize it doesn’t matter, and I think I love him, and honestly, to hell with it all. “Okay. I want us to be boyfriends. I properly fancy you, Baz. It’s not just like… casual.” 

“We literally haven’t done anything.” He says, snickering even though his cheeks are tinted a slight pink. “But that’s very  _ you,  _ I guess.” I stare at him. “In a good way.” He quickly adds. I keep staring at him. “But yeah, I’ll be your boyfriend. I… I properly fancy you too, Simon. I have for what feels like centuries.” 

At that, my heart feels just about ready to run a marathon, or jump out of an airplane with a parachute, or swim across an ocean. I’m full of energy, in a good way; a bit shaky and with sweaty palms, and with a beautiful boy looking expectantly at me. I grin at him, and he grins back, and we kiss again. 

  
  


BAZ

 

It’s not until 5 minutes before Christmas evening dinner that I panic. I haven’t got a gift for Snow. He probably doesn’t have one for me, but it doesn’t really matter. I want this to be good, whatever has just started. I’m not going to fuck it up. 

But now, I need a plan. I should probably stop making plans seeing as the last one went to shite. Whatever. Ugh, I’m starting to sound like Simon. Apparently, informal language is contagious. 

Back to the task at hand. I need something to give him. Something he’ll like. Probably something simple and heartfelt, which is just fucking perfect because it’s exactly the sort of thing I’m horrible at. I’m good at extravagant, dramatic and luxurious. Simon’s more… simplistic, low-maintenance. Not that I wouldn’t love literally anything he give me. Anything he has touched. Merlin, am I disturbed. 

If there were still flowers in the garden I would make him a bouquet, but, well… It’s Christmas. What does one even give to one’s new half-secret boyfriend? 

I keep ruminating during dinner, which is horrible and full of awkward glances, too-loud throat-clearing and clinking of utensils against plates and teeth. My father seems to have forgotten all about what happened earlier, but there’s still something tense about him, and Daphne is nervous about the real Christmas dinner tomorrow. Grandmother is coming over along with the entire family, and well… The first part is the largest source of stress, really. My grandmother is quite a specimen. 

I wake up from my daydreaming temporarily as Simons leg brushes against mine but that reminds me of my lack of Christmas present. Shit. I have approximately 4 hours until he will want to go to sleep, and then I might be able to sneak out during the night, although that would probably wake him up. Fuck. Why didn’t I think of this earlier? 

I guess I could give him something abstract. A sappy, romantic letter. Crowley, no. We’ve not even been dating for a week. Or I could ask Daphne to steal one of her presents for him. I’m sure she bought him a present, probably several, if I’m not mistaken. 

Suddenly, as I’m shoving around some haricots verts on my plate, I remember something. Something I haven’t touched in a while. I hope I haven’t forgotten. He might hate it, but I don’t really have anything better in mind. Fuck it. 

 

SIMON

 

Baz excuses himself after dinner. He’s acting odd, and I want to check that he’s alright, but I have other things to do. Sitting in his room, on the window ledge, I’m watching the snowfall outside, racking my brain for anything useful. I still have no gift for Baz, and it’s becoming quite urgent. But to be fair, what am I to do? I’m stuck in a mansion with no money, no shops nearby that I know of, and even if there were any they would probably be closed. 

I guess that leaves me to my creative abilities. Which are nonexistent. Amazing. I mean, I can be crafty when it’s needed. After all, my magic isn’t all that reliable. When something breaks I usually resort to duct tape. But that doesn’t help me know. 

I want to give him something special, something he can cherish, and remember me by. A special moment, perhaps, a memory. Maybe I could take him somewhere? Maybe I can do something with my magic. I know I’m powerful, I just need to channel it right. But there’s no way I’ll learn how to control my magic in a night. I don’t even know what he wants. Something posh, probably. Something beautiful. Baz likes beautiful things. He dresses nicely, and his room is decorated with fancy fabrics and patterns and stuff. But I have no idea how to find something like that. I wish I could make something. I look out the window. Everything is covered in white, glistening in the moonlight. The naked trees sway in the wind, as if pointing to the stars.  _ Look at this one! No, this one shines brighter!  _ I look up. It’s a clear night. I wish I could capture this. Not just in a picture, it wouldn’t be enough. I wish there was some way of making it tangible; a moment, so he could feel it, and keep it. I know it doesn’t make sense, but I want it so badly. 

Suddenly, a star swooshes across the sky. I know it’s not really a star, Penny told me once of the flying burning rocks but I don’t care. I wish. 

At first, nothing happens. But then, just as I’m the most desperate, my eyes squeezed shut wishing so hard for something to happen; inside my closed fist, i feel it growing. Round and cold. I know what it is before I even bring it up to look at it.  _ Perfect.  _ I just hope it will work. 

 

BAZ

 

“Bazzy! It’s Christmas morning! Wake up!” Mordelia’s voice booms. The door swings back and forth as she throws herself forward, hanging onto the handle. 

Simon grunts, rustling in the sheets.

“Bazzz. Bazman, bazooka, bazar, bazpipe!” 

That wakes Simon up and he sits up, forgetting his bare chest to laugh, shaking his head. “Mordelia, you are a genius and I love you.” 

“Noo.” I groan. I wonder if Mordy will tell Daphne Simon and I are sleeping in the same bed. Maybe she already knows. That woman is omniscient. 

“Bazz lightyear!” My excited younger sister chants. “Come on, upsy dupsy you go! Mum says you’ve got to get ready. The guests will be here in an hour.” 

Fuck. I scurry off the bed and almost trip on Simon’s sweater, much to my sister’s and boyfriend’s delight. “Are you two plotting some kind of evil scheme against me?” I mutter.

Simon just keeps snickering. “Says the vampire edgelord himself.” 

I disappear into the bathroom, locking the door. I still hear them cackling until I switch the shower on and let myself dissolve into hot steam and lush shampoo. 

 

SIMON

 

When Baz comes out of the shower nearly 30 minutes later I realize I don’t have anything to wear. The Grimm family is all posh and formal, seeing as even Christmas dinners at Agatha’s were moderately dressed up, I’d guess this is the fucking Oscar’s. 

“Uhm Baz…” I start, just as he hands me a towel, toothbrush stuck between his teeth. 

He spits in sink before answering, his voice still a bit wet and muffled.“Trust me, you don’t need breakfast, it’s not lunch, it’s breakfast, lunch, tea and dinner combined. Usually about 14 courses.”

“Wow. Anyway that’s not what I was going to ask. I, uh, don’t really have anything to wear.”

He hums.“Oh. I think I might have something. You just pop in the shower, I’ll see if I can find it.”

I’m usually quite quick in the shower, but I allow myself an extra 5 minutes this time, trying out Baz’s fancy soaps and shampoos. I end up smelling just like him, which is both nice and kind of strange. 

When I get out, Baz is in his wardrobe, humming some Christmas carol. 

“I want a hippopotamus for Christmas...only a hippopotamus will do...hm-m” I only realize I was staring at his arse when he turns around.

“What are you singing?” I grin.

He startles. “Oh. Hi. Uh, nothing. Anyway, look at the bed. haven’t found a tie yet, but I’m thinking maybe a bowtie would be better?” 

I don’t think I’m supposed to answer that, so I just walk over to the bed and pick up the grey three piece suit. I bring it with me into the bathroom to change, it still feels weird changing in front of him, even though we’re boyfriends now and he’s seen me shirtless. It must’ve been a good decision because when I come out again he gapes at me for a solid minute, eyes large and cheeks pink. 

“Uhm, well that was clearly a good idea. I mean, it suits you well.” He’s still staring at me with an odd expression.

I beam at him. “Well you don’t look so bad yourself.” 

He really doesn’t. He looks amazing, hair drawn up into a small half-up bun, a dark green suit hugging all the right places. He walks up to me, a tie in one hand, bowtie in the other, holding them up to my neck one after the other. 

“Hmm. The bowtie, definitely.” He nods to himself, starting to fasten it. Our eyes meet for a moment and he smiles at me shyly. I think about how extremely weird this moment is. Domestic and calm and sort of clumsily awkward. There’s nowhere I’d rather be. “Right. So. I should probably warn you about Grandmother. She’s  _ a lot.  _ Uhm, just don’t let her get to you. If I were you I would just avoid her as much as possible. And she’s got a cat _. _ And I don’t mean a  _ cat  _ cat. I mean a horrendous monstrosity of a creature. It looks like a goblin.”

“Oh, can’t be that bad then.” I retort. 

Baz glares at me in horror.“What the fuck, Simon.” 

“Anyway, how bad can a nana really be?” 

“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

I laugh. “Okay. I’ll trust you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, that's it for this time! I'll try to write the next one as fast as possible, but no promises... I have 2 presentations and 3 tests next week :'( Wish me luck lol I'll need it. Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly apreciated as always <3

**Author's Note:**

> I'M SORRY FOR THE CLIFFHANGER OK BUT IT'S THE BEST ENDING I COULD COME UP WITH OK NOW GO TO SLEEP, CHILD. I KNOW IT'S 2 AM, AND UR ABOUT TO GO LOOKING FOR ANOTHER FIC. Srsly tho take care of yourselves, internet friends!


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